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THE 



LAY 



OF 

THE LAST MINSTREL. 



IN SIX CANTOS. 



THE 



LAY 



OF 



THE LAST MINSTREL, 

A POEM; 



BY 



WALTER SCOTT, Esq. 



Dum relego, scripsisse pudet, quia plurima cerno, 
Me quoque, qui feci, judice, digna lini. 



THE FIFTH EDITION. 




LONDON : 4 

PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME, 
PATERNOSTER-ROW, AND A. CONSTABLE AND CO, EDINBURGH; 

By James JBallantyne fy Co. Edinburgh. 

1806. 






ZtLoJ 






TO THE 
EIGHT HONOURABLE 

CHARLES, 
EARL OF DALKEITH, 

THIS 

POEM IS INSCRIBED 

BY 

THE AUTHOR. 



THE Poem, now offered to the Public, is intended to 
illustrate the customs and manners, which anciently pre- 
vailed on the Borders of England and Scotland. The 
inhabitants, living in a state partly pastoral and part- 
ly warlike, and combining habits of constant depredation 
with the influence of a rude spirit of chivalry, were often 
engaged in scenes, highly susceptible of poetical ornament. 
As the description of scenery and manners ivas more the 
object of the Author, than a combined and regular narra- 
tive, the plan of the ancient Metrical Romance was adopt- 
ed, which alloivs greater latitude, in this respect, than 
would be consistent with the dignity of a regular Poem. 
The same model offered other facilities, as it permits an 
occasional alteration of measure, which, in some degree, 
authorises the change of rythm in the text. The machine- 
ry also, adopted from popular belief , would have seemed 
puerile in a Poem, which did not partake of the rudeness 
of the old Ballad, or Metrical Romance. 

For these reasons, the Poem was put into the mouth of 
an ancient Minstrel, the last of the race, who, as he is sup- 
posed to have survived the Revolution, might have caught 
somewhat of the refinement of modern poetry, without lo- 
sing the simplicity of his original model. The date of 
the Tide itself is about the middle of the sixteenth century, 
when most of the personages actually flourished. The time 
occupied by the action is three Nights and three Days. 



THE 



LAY 



OF 

THE LAST MINSTREL. 



CANTO FIRST. 



INTRODUCTION. 



The way was long, the wind was cold, 
The Minstrel was infirm and old ; 
His withered cheek, and tresses gray, 
Seemed to have known a better day ; 
The harp, his sole remaining joy, 
Was carried by an orphan boy ; 
The last of all the bards was he, 
Who sung of Border chivalry. 
For, well-a-day ! their date was fled, 
His tuneful brethren all were dead ; 
And he, neglected and oppressed, 
Wished to be with them, and at rest. 
No more, on prancing palfrey borne,. 
He carolled, light as lark at morn ; 



12 

No longer courted and caressed, 

High placed in hall, a welcome guest, 

He poured, to lord and lady gay, 

The unpremeditated lay : 

Old times were changed, old manners gone; 

A stranger filled the Stuarts' throne ; 

The bigots of the iron time 

Had called his harmless art a crime. 

A wandering Harper, scorned and poor, 

He begged his bread from door to door ; 

And tuned, to please a peasant's ear, 

The harp, a king had loved to hear. 

He passed where Newark's stately tower 
Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower : 
The Minstrel gazed with wishful eye — 
No humbler resting-place was nigh. 
With hesitating step, at last, 
The embattled portal-arch he passed, 



13 

Whose ponderous grate and massy bar 
Had oft rolled back the tide of war, 
But never closed the iron door 
Against the desolate and poor. 
The Duchess # marked his weary pace, 
His timid mein, and reverend face, 
And bade her page the menials tell, 
That they should tend the old man well : 
For she had known adversity, 
Though born in such a high degree ; 
In pride of power, in beauty's bloom, 
Had wept o'er Monmouth's bloody tomb ! 

When kindness had his wants supplied, 
And the old man was gratified, 
Began to rise his minstrel pride : 



* Anne, Duchess of Buccleuch and Monmouth, represen- 
tative of the ancient Lords of Buccleuch, and widow of the 
unfortunate James, Duke of Monmouth, who was beheaded 
in 1685. 



14 

And he began to talk anon, 

Of good Earl Francis, # dead and gone, 

And of Earl Walter, f rest him God ! 

A braver ne'er to battle rode : 

And how full many a tale he knew, 

Of the old warriors of Buccleuch ; 

And, would the noble Duchess deign 

To listen to an old man's strain, 

Though stiff his hand, his voice though weak, 

He thought even yet, the sooth to speak, 

That, if she loved the harp to hear, 

He could make music to her ear. 

The humble boon was soon obtained ; 
The Aged Minstrel audience gained. 
But, when he reached the room of state, 
Where she, with all her ladies, sate, 



* Francis Scott, Earl of Buccleuch, father of the duchess, 
f Walter, Earl of Buccleuch, grandfather of the duchess, 
and a celebrated warrior. 



15 

Perchance he wished his boon denied : 

For, when to tune his harp he tried, 

His trembling hand had lost the ease, 

Which marks security to please ; 

And scenes, Jong past, of joy and pain, 

Came wildering o'er his aged brain — 

He tried to tune his harp in vain. 

The pitying Duchess praised its chime, 

And gave him heart, and gave him time, 

Till every string's according glee 

Was blended into harmony. 

And then, he said, he would full fain 

He could recal an ancient strain, 

He never thought to sing again. 

It was not framed for village churles, 

But for high dames and mighty earls ; 

He had played it to King Charles the Good, 

When he kept court in Holyrood ; 

And much he wished, yet feared, to try 

The long forgotten melody. 



16 

Amid the strings his fingers strayed, 
And an uncertain warbling made, 
And oft he shook his hoary head. 
But when he caught the measure wild, 
The old man raised his face, and smiled ; 
And lightened up his faded eye, 
With all a poet's extacy ! 
In varying cadence, soft or strong, 
He swept the sounding chords along : 
The present scene, the future lot, 
His toils,. his wants, were all forgot : 
Cold diffidence, and age's frost, 
In the full tide of song were lost ; 
Each blank, in faithless memory void, 
The poet's glowing thought supplied ; 
And, while his harp responsive rung, 
'Twas thus the Latest Minstrel sung. 



THE 



LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
CANTO FIRST. 



I. 

The feast was over in Branksome tower, 

And the Ladye had gone to her secret bower; 

Her bower, that was guarded by word and by spell, 

Deadly to hear, and deadly to tell — 

Jesu Maria, shield us well ! 

No living wight, save the Ladye alone, 

Had dared to cross the threshold stone. 



18 

II. 

The tables were drawn, it was idlesse all ; 

Knight, and page, and household squire, 
Loitered through the lofty hall, 

Or crowded round the ample fire : 
The stag-hounds, weary with the chaee, 

Lay stretched upon the rushy floor, 
And urged, in dreams, the forest race, 

From Teviot-stone to Eskdale-moor. 

III. 

Nine-and-twenty knights of fame 

Hung their shields in Branksome Hall ; 
Nine-and-twenty squires of name 

Brought them their steeds from bower to stall ; 
Nine-and-twenty yeomen tall 
Waited, duteous, on them all : 
They were all knights of mettle true, 
Kinsmen to the bold Buccleuch. 



19 

IV. 

Ten of them were sheathed in steel, 
With belted sword, and spur on heel : 
They quitted not their harness bright, 
Neither by day, nor yet by night ; 

They lay down to rest 

With corslet laced, 
Pillowed on buckler cold and hard ; 

They carved at the meal 

With gloves of steel, 
And they drank the red wine through the helmet 
barred. 

V. 

Ten squires, ten yeomen, mail-clad men, 
Waited the beck of the warders ten ; 
Thirty steeds, both fleet and wight, 
Stood saddled in stable day and night, 
Barbed with frontlet of steel, I trow, 
And with Jedwood-axe at saddle-bow ; 



20 

A hundred more fed free in stall : — 
Such was the custom of Branksome Hall. 

VI. 

Why do these steeds stand ready dight ? 
Why watch these warriors, armed, by night ? — 
They watch, to hear the blood-hound baying ; 
They watch, to hear the war-horn braying ; 
To see St George's red cross streaming, 
To see the midnight beacon gleaming ; 

They watch, against Southern force and guile, 
Lest Scroop, or Howard, or Percy's powers, 
Threaten Branksome's lordly towers, 
From Warkworth, or Naworth, or merry Carlisle. 

VII. 

Such is the custom of Branksome-Hall. — 

Many a valiant knight is here ; 
But he, the Chieftain of them all, 
His sword hangs rusting on the wall, 

Beside his broken spear. 



21 

Bards long shall tell, 

How Lord Walter fell! 

When startled burghers fled, afar, 

The furies of the Border war ; 

When the streets of high Dunedin 

Saw lances gleam, and falcheons redden, 

And heard the slogan's # deadly yell — 

Then the Chief of Branksome fell. 

VIII. 

Can piety the discord heal, 

Or staunch the death-feud's enmity ? 
Can Christian lore, can patriot zeal, 

Can love of blessed charity ? 
No ! vainly to each holy shrine, 

In mutual pilgrimage, they drew; 
Implored, in vain, the grace divine 

For chiefs, their pwn red falchions slew 

* The war-cry, or gathering word, of a Border clap. 



2% 

While Cessford owns the rule of Car, 
While Ettrick boasts the line of Scott, 

The slaughtered chiefs, the mortal jar, 

The havoc of the feudal war, 
Shall never, never be forgot ! 

IX. 

In sorrow, o'er Lord Walter/s bier 
The warlike foresters had bent ; 
And many a flower, and many a tear, 

Old Teviot's maids and matrons lent : 
But o'er her warrior's bloody bier 
The Ladye dropped nor flower nor tear ! 
Vengeance, deep-brooding o'er the slain, 
Had locked the source of softer woe ; 
And burning pride, and high disdain, 

Forbade the rising tear to flow ; 
Until, amid his sorrowing clan, 

Her son lisped from the nurse's knee — 
fi And, if I live to be a man, 
* My father's death revenged shall be !" 



23 

Then fast the mother's tears did seek 
To dew the infant's kindling cheek. 

X. 

All loose her negligent attire. 

All loose her golden hair, 
Hung Margaret o'er her slaughtered sire. 

And wept in wild despair. 
But not alone the bitter tear 

Had filial grief supplied ; 
For hopeless love, and anxious fear, 

Had lent their mingled tide : 
Nor in her mother's altered eye 
Dared she to look for sympathy. 

Her lover, 'gainst her father's clan, 
With Car in arms had stood, 

When Mathouse-burn to Melrose ran, 
All purple with their blood ; 

And well she knew, her mother dread, 

Before Lord Cranstoun she should wed, 

Would see her on her dying bed. 



t "TO 



24 

XL 

Of noble race the Ladye came ; 
Her father was a clerk of fame, 

Of Bethune's line of Picardie : 
He learned the art, that none may name, 

In Padua, far beyond the sea. 
Men said, he changed his mortal frame 

By feat of magic mystery ; 
For when, in studious mood, he paced 

St Andrew's cloistered hall, 
His form no darkening shadow traced 

Upon the sunny wall ! 

XII. 

And of his skill, as bards avoW, 

He taught that Ladye fair, 
Till to her bidding she could bow 

The viewless forms of air. 
And now she sits in secret bower, 
In old Lord David's western tower, 



* m 



25 

And listens to a heavy sound, 

That moans the mossy turrets round. 

Is it the roar of Teviot's tide, 

That chafes against the scaur's * red side ? 

Is it the wind, that swings the oaks ? 

Is it the echo from the rocks ? 

What may it be, the heavy sound, 

That moans old Branksome's turrets round , ? 

XIII. 

At the sullen, moaning sound, 

The ban-dogs bay and howl ; 
And, from the turrets round, • 

Loud whoops the startled owl. 
In the hall, both squire and knight 

Swore that a storm was near, 
And looked forth to view the night; 

But the night was still and clear ! 



* Scaur, a precipitous bank of earth, 



%6 

XIV. 

From the sound of Teviot's tide, 
Chafing with the mountain's side, 
From the groan of the wind-swung oak, 
From the sullen echo of the rock, 
From the voice of the coming storm, 

The Ladye knew it well ! 
It was the Spirit of the Flood that spoke, 

And he called on the Spirit of the Fell. 

XV. 
River Spirit. 
ic Sleep'st thou, brother .?" 

Mountain Spirit. 

— " Brother, nay — 
On my hills the moon-beams play. 
From Craik-cross to Skelf hill-pen, 
By every rill, in every glen, 

Merry elves their morrice pacing, 

To aerial minstrelsy, 
Emerald rings on brown heath tracing, 
Trip it deft and merrily. 



27 

Up, and mark their nimble feet ! 
Up, and list their music sweet !" 

XVI. 

River Spirit. 
<c Tears of an imprisoned maiden 

Mix with my polluted stream ; 
Margaret of Branksome, sorrow-laden, 

Mourns beneath the moon's pale beam, 
Tell me, thou, who viewest the stars, 
When shall cease these feudal jars ? 
What shall be the maiden's fate? 
Who shall be the maiden's mate ? w 

XVII. 
Mountain Spirit. 
tc Arthur's slow wain his course doth roll, 
In utter darkness, round the pole ; 
The Northern Bear lowers black and grim ; 
Orion's studded belt is dim ; 



MW43 



28 

Twinkling faint, and distant far, 
Shimmers through mist each planet star ; 

111 may I read their high decree : 
But no kind influence deign they shower 
On Teviot's tide, and Branksome's tower, 

Till pride be quelled, and love be free." 

XVIII. 

The unearthly voices ceast, 

And the heavy sound was still; 
It died on the river's breast, 

It died on the side of the hill. — 
But round Lord David's tower 

The sound still floated near ; 
For it rung in the Ladye's bower, 

And it rung in the Ladye's ear. 
She raised her stately head, 

And her heart throbbed high with pride 
u Your mountains shall bend, 
And your streams ascend, 

Ere Margaret be our foeman's bride !" 



29 

XIX. 

The Ladye sought the lofty hall, 

Where many a bold retainer lay, 
And, with jocund din, among them all, 

Her son pursued his infant play. 
A fancied moss-trooper, the boy 

The truncheon of a spear bestrode, 
And round the hall, right merrily, 

In mimic foray* rode. 
Even bearded knights, in arms grown old,, 

Share in his frolic gambols bore, 
Albeit their hearts, of rugged mould, 

Were stubborn as the steel they wore. 
For the gray warriors prophesied, 

How the brave boy, in future war, 
Should tame the Unicorn's pride, 

Exalt the Crescents and the Star.f 



* Foray, a predatory inroad. 

f Alluding to the armorial bearings of the Scotts and 



Cars. 



30 

XX. 

The Ladye forgot her purpose high, 

One moment, and no more ; 
One moment gazed with a mother's eye, 

As she paused at the arched door : 
Then, from amid the armed train, 
She called to her William of Deloraine. 

XXI. 

A stark moss- trooping Scott was he, 
As e'er couched border lance by knee : 
Through Solway sands, through Tarras moss, 
Blindfold, he knew the paths to cross ; 
By wily turns, by desperate bounds, 
Had baffled Percy's best blood-hounds ; 
In Eske, or Liddel, fords were none, 
But he would ride them, one by one $ 
Alike to him was time or tide, 
December's snow, or July's pride ; 
Alike to him was tide, or time, 
Moonless midnight, or matin prime : 



31 

Steady of heart, and stout of hand, 
As ever drove prey from Cumberland ; 
Five times outlawed had he been, 
By England's king, and Scotland's queen. 



XXII. 

" Sir William of Deloraine, good at need,, 
Mount thee on the wightest steed ; 
Spare not to spur, nor stint to ride, 
Until thou come to fair Tweedside ; 
And in Melrose's holy pile 
Seek thou the Monk of St Mary's aisle. 
Greet the Father well from me ; 

Say, that the fated hour is come, 
And to-night he shall watch with thee, 

To win the treasure of the tomb : 
For this will be St Michael's night, 
And, though stars be dim, the moon is bright ; 
And the Cross, of bloody red, 
Will point to the grave of the mighty dead. 



32 

XXIII. 

" What he gives thee > see thou keep ; 
Stay not thou for food or sleep : 
Be it scroll, or be it book, 
Into it, knight, thou must not look ; 
If thou readest, thou art lorn ! 
Better had'st thou ne'er been born." 

XXIV. 

a O swiftly can speed my dapple-gray steed, 

Which drinks of the Teviot clear ; 
Ere break of day," the warrior 'gan say, 

" Again will I be here : 
And safer by none may thy errand be done, 

Than, noble dame, by me ; 
Letter nor line know I never a one, 

Wer't my neck- verse at Hairibee." # 



* Hairibee, the place of executing the Border marauders at 
Carlisle. The neck-verse is the beginning of the 51st psalm, 
Miserere mei, &c. anciently read by criminals, claiming the 
benefit of clergy. 



S3 

XXV. 

Soon in his saddle sate he fast, 
And soon the steep descent he past, 
Soon crossed the sounding barbican, # 
And soon the Teviot side he won. 
Eastward the wooded path he rode ; 
Green hazels o'er his basnet nod : 
He passed the Peel f of Goldiland, 
And crossed old Borthwick's roaring strand ; 
Dimly he viewed the Moat-hilFs mound, 
Where Druid shades still flitted round : 
In Hawick twinkled many a light ; 
Behind him soon they set in night ; 
And soon he spurred his courser keen 
Beneath the tower of Hazeldean. 

XXVI. 

The clattering hoofs the watchmen mark ; — 
u Stand, ho ! thou courier of the dark." 

* Barbican, the defence of the outer gate of a feudal castle, 
t Peel, a Border tower. 

c 



34 

" For Branksome, ho V the knight rejoined, 
And left the friendly tower behind. 
He turned him now from Teviotside, 

And, guided by the tinkling rill, 
Northward the dark ascent did ride, 
And gained the moor at Horseliehill , 
Broad on the left before him lay, 
For many a mile, the Roman way. # 

XXVII. 

A moment now he slacked his speed, 

A moment breathed his panting steed ; 

Drew saddle-girth and corslet-band, 

And loosened in the sheath his brand. 

On Minto-crags the moon-beams glint, 

Where Barnhill hewed his bed of flint ; 

Who flung his outlawed limbs to rest, 

Where falcons hang their giddy nest, 

Mid cliffs, from whence his eagle eye 

For many a league his prey could spy ; 

* An ancient Roman road, crossing through part of Rox- 
burghshire. 



35 

Cliffs, doubling, on their echoes borne, 

The terrors of the robber's horn ; 

Cliffs, which, for many a later year, 

The warbling Doric reed shall hear, 

When some sad swain shall teach the grove, 

Ambition is no cure for love. 

XXVIII. 

Unchallenged, thence past Deloraine 
To ancient Riddel's fair domain, 

Where Aill, from mountains freed, 
Down from the lakes did raving come ; 
Each wave was crested with tawny foam, 

Like the mane of a chesnut steed. 
In vain ! no torrent, deep or broad, 
Might bar the bold moss-trooper's road. 

XXIX. 

At the first plunge the horse sunk low, 
And the water broke o'er the saddle-bow ; 



36 

Above the foaming tide, I ween, 

Scarce half the charger's neck was seen ; 

For he was barded* from counter to tail, 

And the rider was armed complete in mail ; 

Never heavier man and horse 

Stemmed a midnight torrent's force. 

The warrior's very plume, I say, 

Was daggled by the dashing spray ; 

Yet, throug good heart, and Our Ladye's grace, 

At length he gained the landing place. 

XXX. 

Now Bowden Moor the march-man won, 
And sternly shook his plumed head, 

As glanced his eye o'er Halidon ; f 
For on his soul the slaughter red 



* Barded, or barbed, applied to a horse accoutered with 
defensive armour. 
f Halidon-hill, on which the battle of Melrose was fought. 



37 

Of that unhallowed morn arose, 
When first the Scott and Car were foes ; 
When royal James beheld the fray, 
Prize to the victor of the day ; 
When Home and Douglas, in the van, 
Bore down Buccleuch's retiring clan, 
Till gallant Cessford's heart-blood dear 
Reeked on dark Elliot's Border spear. 

XXXI. 

In bitter mood he spurred fast, 
And soon the hated heath was past ; 
And far beneath, in lustre wan, 
Old Melros' rose, and fair Tweed ran : 
Like some tall rock, with lichens gray, 
Seemed, dimly huge, the dark Abbaye. 
When Hawick he passed, had curfew rung, 
Now midnight lauds # were in Melrose sang. 

Lauds, the midnight service of the Catholic church. 



38 

The sound, upon the fitful gale,, 

In solemn wise did rise and fail, 

Like that wild harp, whose magic tone 

Is wakened by the winds alone. 

But when Melrose he reached, 'twas silence all ; 

He meetly stabled his steed in stall, 

And sought the convent's lonely wall. 



Here paused the harp ; and with its swell 
The Master's fire and courage fell : 
Dejectedly, and low, he bowed, 
And, gazing timid on the crowd, 
He seemed to seek, in every eye, 
If they approved his minstrelsy ; 
And, diffident of present praise, 
Somewhat he spoke of former days, 
And how old age, and wandering long, 
Had done his hand and harp some wrong. 



39 

The Duchess, and her daughters fair, 
And every gentle ladye there, 
Each after each, in due degree, 
Gave praises to his melody ; 
His hand was true, his voice was clear, 
And much they longed the rest to hear. 
Encouraged thus, the Aged Man, 
After meet rest, again began. 



THE 



LAY 



OF 

THE LAST MINSTREL. 



CANTO SECOND. 



; 



THE 



LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, 

CANTO SECOND. 



I. 

If thou would'st view fair Melrose aright,, 
Go visit it by the pale moon-light ; 
For the gay beams of lightsome day 
Gild., but to flout, the ruins gray. 
When the broken arches are black in night, 
And each shafted oriel glimmers white ; 
When the cold light's uncertain shower 
Streams on the ruined central tower; 



44 

When buttress and buttress, alternately, 

Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; 

When silver edges the imagery, 

And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die ; 

When distant Tweed is heard to rave, 

And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave, 

Then go— but go alone the while — 

Then view St David's ruined pile ; 

And, home returning, soothly swear, 

Was never scene so sad and fair ! 

II. 

Short halt did Deloraine make there ; 
Little recked he of the scene so fair. 
With dagger's hilt, on the wicket strong, 
He struck full loud, and struck full long. 
The porter hurried to the gate — 
iC Who knocks so loud, and knocks so late ?" — 
" From Branksome I," the warrior cried ; 
And strait the wicket opened wide : 



45 

For Branksome's chiefs had in battle stood, 
To fence the rights of fair Melrose ; 

And lands and livings, many a rood, 

Had gifted the shrine for their souls' repose. 

III. 

Bold Deloraine his errand said ; 
The porter bent his humble head ; 
With torch in hand, and feet unshod, 
And noiseless step, the path he trod : 
The arched cloisters, far and wide, 
Rang to the warrior's clanking stride ; 
Till, stooping low his lofty crest, 
He entered the cell of the ancient priest, 
And lifted his barred aventayle, # 
To hail the Monk of St Mary's aisle. 

* Aventayle, visor of the helmet. 



46 

IV. 

" The Lactye of Branksome greets thee by me ; 

Says, that the fated hour is come, 
And that to-night I shall watch with thee, 

To win the treasure of the tomb." — 
From sackcloth couch the Monk arose, 

With toil his stiffened limbs he reared ; 
A hundred years had flung their snow T s 

On his thin locks and floating beard. 

V. 

And strangely on the Knight looked he, 

And his blue eyes gleamed wild and wide ; — 
" And, dar'st thou, warrior ! seek to see 

What heaven and hell alike would hide ? 
My breast, in belt of iron pent, 

With shirt of hair and scourge of thorn ; 
For threescore years, in penance spent, 

My knees those flinty stones have worn ; 



47 

Yet all too little to atone 
For knowing what should ne'er be known. 
Would'st thou thy every future year 

In ceaseless prayer and penance drie, 
Yet wait thy latter end with fear — » 
Then, daring warrior, follow me !"-— 

VI. 

a Penance, father, will I none ; 

Prayer know I hardly one ; 

For mass or prayer can I rarely tarry, 

Save to patter an Ave Mary, 

When I ride on a Border foray : 

Other prayer can I none ; 

So speed me my errand, and let me begone,"-— 

VII. 

Again on the Knight looked the Churchman old, 

And again he sighed heavily; 
For he had himself been a warrior bold, 

And fought in Spain and Italy. 



48 

And he thought on the days that were long since by, 
When his limbs were strong, and his courage was 

high :— 
Now, slow and faint, he led the way, 

Where, cloistered round, the garden lay ; 

The pillared arches were over their head, 
And beneath their feet were the bones of the dead. 

VIII. 

Spreading herbs, and flowerets bright, 
Glistened with the dew of night ; 
Nor herb, nor floweret, glistened there, 
But was carved in the cloister-arches as fair. 
The Monk gazed long on the lovely moon, 

Then into the night he looked forth ; 
And red and bright the streamers light 
Were dancing in the glowing north. 
So had he seen, in fair Castile, 

The youth in glittering squadrons start ; 
Sudden the flying jennet wheel, 
And hurl the unexpected dart. 



49 

He knew, by the streamers that shot so bright, 
That spirits were riding the northern light. 

IX. 

By a steel-clenched postern door, 

They entered now the chancel tall ; 
The darkened roof rose high aloof 

On pillars, lofty, and light, and small ; 
The key-stone, that locked each ribbed aisle, 
Was a fleur-de-lys, or a quatre-feuille ; 
The corbells* were carved grotesque and grim ; 
And the pillars, with clustered shafts so trim, 
With base and with capital flourished around, 
Seemed bundles of lances which garlands had bound. 

X. 

Full many a scutcheon and banner, riven, 
Shook to the cold night-wind of heaven, 



* Corbells, the projections from which the arches spring 
usually cut in a fantastic face, or mask. 



so 

Around the screened altar's pale ; 
And there the dying lamps did burn, 
Before thy low and lonely urn, 
O gallant Chief of Otterbume, 

And thine, dark Knight of Liddesdale ! 
O fading honours of the dead ! 
O high ambition, lowly laid ! 

XI. 

# 

The moon on the east oriel shone, 
Through slender shafts of shapely stone, 

By foliaged tracery combined ; 
Thou would'st have thought some fairy's hand 
'Twixt poplars straight the ozier wand, 

In many a freakish knot, had twined ; 
Then framed a spell, when the work was done, 
And changed the willow-wreaths to stone. 

The silver light, so pale and faint, 

Shewed many a prophet, and many a saint, 



51 

Whose image on the glass was dyed ; 
Full in the midst, his Cross of Red 
Triumphant Michael brandished, 
And trampled the Apostate's pride* 
The moon-beam kissed the holy pane, 
And threw on the pavement a bloody stain. 

XII. 

They sate them down on a marble stone, 

A Scottish monarch slept below ; 
Thus spoke the Monk, in solemn tone : — 

et I was not always a man of woe : 
For Paynim countries I have trod, 
And fought beneath the Cross of God ; 
Now, strange to my eyes thine arms appear, 
And their iron clang sounds strange to my ear. 

XIII. 

ie In these far climes, it was my lot 
To meet the wondrous Michael Scott; 



52 

A wizard of such dreaded fame, 
That when, in Salamanca's cave, 
Him listed his magic wand to wave, 

The bells would ring in Notre Dame ! 
Some of his skill he taught to me ; 
And, Warrior, I could say to thee 
The words, that cleft Eildon hills in three, 

And bridled the Tweed with a curb of stone : 
But to speak them were a deadly sin ; 
And for having but thought them my heart within, 

A treble penance must be done. 

XIV. 

" When Michael lay on his dying bed, 

His conscience was awakened ; 

He bethought him of his sinful deed, 

And he gave me a sign to come with speed : 

I was in Spain when the morning rose, 

But I stood by his bed ere evening close. 



53 

The words may not again be said, 
That he spoke to me, on death-bed laid ; 
They would rend this Abbaye's massy nave, 
And pile it in heaps above his grave. 

XV. 
<c I swore to bury his Mighty Book, 
That never mortal might therein look ; 
And never to tell where it was hid, 
Save at his chief of Branksoine's need ; 
And when that need was past and o'er, 
Again the volume to restore. 
I buried him on St Michael's night, 
When the bell tolled one, and the moon was bright; 
And I dug his chamber among the dead, 
When the floor of the chancel was stained red, 
That his patron's Cross might over him wave, 
And scare the fiends from the Wizard's grave. 



54 

XVI. 
" It was a night of woe and dread, 
When Michael in the tomb I laid ! 
Strange sounds along the chancel past, 
The banners waved without a blast," — 
— Still spoke the Monk, when the bell tolled one !■ 
I tell you, that a braver man 
Than William of Deloraine, good at need, 
Against a foe ne'er spurred a steed ; 
Yet somewhat was he chilled with dread, 
And his hair did bristle upon his head. 

XVII. 

" Lo, Warrior ! now, the Cross of Red 
Points to the grave of the mighty dead ; 
Within it burns a wonderous light, 
To chase the spirits that love the night : 
That lamp shall burn unquenchably, 
Until the eternal doom shall be." — 






55 

Slow moved the Monk to the broad flag-stone, 

Which the bloody Cross was traced upon : 

He pointed to a secret nook ; 

An iron bar the warrior took ; 

And the Monk made a sign with his withered hand, 

The grave's huge portal to expand. 

XVIII. 

With beating heart to the task he went ; 

His sinewy frame o'er the grave-stone bent j 

With bar of iron heaved amain, 

Till the toil-drops fell from his brows, like rain. 

It was by dint of passing strength, 

That he moved the massy stone at length. 

I would you had been there, to see 

How the light broke forth so gloriously, 

Streamed upward to the chancel roof, 

And through the galleries far aloof! 
No earthly flame blazed e'er so bright : 
It shone like heaven's own blessed light, 



56 

And, issuing from the tomb, 
Shewed the Monk's cowl, and visage pale, 
Danced on the dark-brow'd Warrior's mail, 

And kissed his waving plume. 

XIX. 

Before their eyes the Wizard lay, 
As if he had not been dead a day. 
His hoary beard in silver rolled, 
He seemed some seventy winters old ; 

A palmer's amiee wrapped him round, 

With a wrought Spanish baldric bound, 
Like a pilgrim from beyond the sea : 

His left hand held his Book of Might ; 

A silver cross was in his right; 

The lamp was placed beside his knee : 
High and majestic was his look, 
At which the fellest fiends had shook, 
And all unruffled was his face : — 
They trusted his soul had gotten grace. 



57 

XX. 

Often had William of Deloraine 
Rode through the battle's bloody plain, 
And trampled down the warriors slain, 

And neither known remorse or awe ; 
Yet now remorse and awe he own'd ; 
His breath came thick, his head swam rounds 

When this strange scene of death he saw. 
Bewildered and unnerved he stood, 
iVnd the priest prayed fervently, and loud : 
With eyes averted prayed he ; 
He might not endure the sight to see, 
Of the man he had loved so brotherly. 

XXI. 

And when the priest his death-prayer had prayed, 

Thus unto Deloraine he said : — 

" Now, speed thee what thou hast to do, 

Or, Warrior, we may dearly rue ; 



58 

For those, thou mayest not look upon, 

Are gathering fast round the yawning stone !" — 

Then Deloraine, in terror, took 

From the cold hand the Mighty Book, 

With iron clasped, and with iron bound : 

He thought, as he took it, the dead man frowned; 

But the glare of the sepulchral light, 

Perchance, had dazzled the warrior's sight. 

XXII. 

When the huge stone sunk o'er the tomb, 

The night returned, in double gloom ; 

For the moon had gone down, and the stars were few ; 

And, as the Knight and Priest withdrew, 

With wavering steps and dizzy brain, 

They hardly might the postern gain. 

'Tis said, as through the aisles they passed, 

They heard strange noises on the blast ; 

And through the cloister-galleries small, 

Which at mid-height thread the chancel wall, 



59 

Loud sobs, and laughter louder, ran, 
And voices unlike the voice of man ; 
As if the fiends kept holiday, 
Because these spells were brought to day, 
I cannot tell how the truth may be ; 
I say the tale as 'twas said to me. 

XXIII. 

a Now, hie thee hence," the Father said, 
" And, when we are on death-bed laid, 
O may our dear Ladye, and sweet St John, 
Forgive our souls for the deed we have done !"- 

The Monk returned him to his cell, 
And many a prayer and penance sped ; 

When the convent met at the noontide bell- 
The Monk of St Mary's aisle was dead ! 
Before the cross was the body laid, 
With hands clasped fast, as if still he prayed. 



60 

XXIV. 

The Knight breathed free in the morning wind, 

And strove his hardihood to find : 

He was glad when he passed the tombstones gray, 

Which girdle round the fair Abbaye ; 

For the mystic Book, to his bosom prest, 

Felt like a load upon his breast ; 

And his joints, with nerves of iron twined, 

Shook, like the aspen leaves in wind. 

full fain was he when the dawn of day 

Began to brighten Cheviot gray ; 

He joyed to see the chearful light, 

And he said Ave Mary, as well as he might. 

XXV. 
The sun had brightened Cheviot gray, 

The sun had brightened the Carter's # side ; 
iVnd soon beneath the rising day 

Smiled Branksome towers and Teviot's tide f 

* A mountain on the border of England, above Jedburgh. 



61 

The wild birds told their warbling tale, 

And wakened every flower that blows; 
And peeped forth the violet pale, 

And spread her breast the mountain rose. 
And lovelier than the rose so red, 

Yet paler than the violet pale, 
She early left her sleepless bed, 

The fairest maid of Teviotdale. 

XXVI. 

Why does fair Margaret so early awake, 

And don her kirtle so hastilie ; 
And the silken knots, which in hurry she would make, 

Why tremble her slender fingers to tie ; 
Why does she stop, and look often around, 

As she glides down the secret stair ; 
And why does she pat the shaggy blood-hound, 

As he rouses him up from his lair; 
And, though she passes the postern alone, 
Why is not the watchman's bugle blown t 



62 

XXVII. 

The ladye steps in doubt and dread, 

Lest her watchful mother hear her tread ; 

The ladye caresses the rough blood-hound, 

Lest his voice should waken the castle round ; 

The watchman's bugle is not blown, 

For he was her foster-father's son ; 

And she glides through the greenwood at dawn of 

light, 
To meet Baron Henry, her own true knight. 

XXVIII. 

The Knight and Ladye fair are met, 
And under the hawthorn's boughs are set. 
A fairer pair were never seen 
To meet beneath the hawthorn green. 
He was stately, and young, and tall ; 
Dreaded in battle, and loved in hall : 
And she, when love, scarce told, scarce hid, 
Lent to her cheek a livelier red ; 



63 

When the half sigh her swelling breast 
Against the silken ribband pressed ; 
When her blue eyes their secret told, 
Though shaded by her locks of gold — 
Where would you find the peerless fair, 
With Margaret of Branksome might compare! 

XXIX. 

And now, fair dames, methinks I see 

You listen to my minstrelsy ; 

Your waving locks ye backward throw, 

And sidelong bend your necks of snow : — 

Ye ween to hear a melting tale, 

-Of two true lovers in a dale ; 

And how the Knight, with tender fire, 
To paint his faithful passion strove; 

Swore, he might at her feet expire, 
But never, never cease to love ; 
And how she blushed, and how she sighed, 
And, half consenting half denied, 



64 

And said that she would die a maid; — ■ 
Yet, might the bloody feud be stayed, 
Henry of Cranstoun, and only he, 
Margaret of Branksome's choice should be. 

XXX. 

Alas ! fair dames, your hopes are vain ! 
My harp has lost the enchanting strain ; 

Its lightness would my age reprove : 
My hairs are gray, my limbs are old, 
My heart is dead, my veins are cold : — 

I may not, must not, sing of love. 

XXXI. 

Beneath an oak, mossed o'er by eld, 
The Baron's Dwarf his courser held, 

And held his crested helm and spear : 
That Dwarf was scarcely an earthly man, 
If the tales were true, that of him ran 

Through all the Border, far and near. 



65 

T was said, when the Baron a-hunting rode 
Through Reedsdale's glens, but rarely trod, 
He heard a voice cry, " Lost ! lost ! lost !" 
And, like tennis-ball by raquet tossed, 

A leap, of thirty feet and three, 
Made from the gorse this elfin shape, 
Distorted like some dwarfish ape, 

And lighted at Lord Cranstoim's knee. 
Lord Cranstoun was some whit dismayed ; 
'Tis said that five good miles he rade, 
To rid him of his company ; 
But where he rode one mile, the Dwarf ran four, 
And the Dwarf was first at the castle door. 

XXXII. 

Use lessens marvel, it is said. 
This elfish Dwarf with the Baron staid ; 
Little he ate, and less he spoke, 
Nor mingled with the menial flock ; 



66 

And oft apart his arms he tossed, 
And often muttered, " Lost ! lost ! lost !" 
He was waspish, arch, and litherlie, 
But well Lord Cranstoun served he : 
And he of his service was full fain ; 
For once he had been ta'en or slain, 

An' it had not been his ministry. 
All, between Home and Hermitage, 
Talked of Lord Cranstoun's Goblin Page. 

XXXIIL 

For the Baron went on pilgrimage, 
And took with him this elvish Page, 

To Mary's chapel of the Lowes : 
For there, beside Our Ladye's lake, 
An offering he had sworn to make, 

And he would pay his vows. 
Bat the Ladye of Brank some gathered a band 
Of the best that would ride at her command ; 



67 

The trysting place was Newark Lee. 
Wat of Harden came thither amain, 
And thither came John of Thirlestaine, 
And thither came William of Deloraine ; 

<* They were three hundred spears and three. 
Through Douglas-burn, up Yarrow stream, 
Their horses prance, their lances gleam. 
They came to St Mary's lake ere day ; 
But the chapel was void, and the Baron away. 
They burned the chapel for very rage, 
And cursed Lord Cranstoun's Goblin- Page. 

XXXIV. 

And now, in Branksome's good green wood, 

As under the aged oak he stood, 

The Baron's courser pricks his ears, 

As if a distant noise he hears. 

The Dwarf waves his long lean arm on high, 

And signs to the lovers to part and fly ; 

No time was then to vow or sigh. 



68 

Fair Margaret, through the hazel grove, 
Flew like the startled cushat-dove : # 
The Dwarf the stirrup held and rein ; 
Vaulted the knight on his steed amain, 
And, pondering deep that morning's scene, 
Rode eastward through the hawthorns green. 



While thus he poured the lengthened tale, 
The Minstrel's voice began to fail : 
Full slyly smiled the observant page, 
And gave the withered hand of age 
A goblet, crowned with mighty wine, 
The blood of Velez' scorched vine. 
He raised the silver cup on high, 
And, while the big drop filled his eye, 
Prayed God to bless the Duchess long, 
And all who cheered a son of song. 

* Wood pigeon. 



69 

The attending maidens smiled to see, 
How long, how deep, how zealously, 
The precious juice the Minstrel quaffed \ 
And he, emboldened by the draught, 
Looked gaily back to them and laughed. 
The cordial nectar of the bowl 
Swelled his old veins, and cheered his soul 
A lighter, livelier prelude ran, 
Ere thus his tale again began. 



THE 

LAY 

OF 

THE LAST MINSTREL. 



CANTO THIRD. 



THE 






LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 

CANTO THIRD. 



And said I that my limbs were old; 
And said I that my blood was cold, 
And that my kindly fire was fled, 
And my poor withered heart was dead, 

And that I might not sing of love ? — 
How could I to the dearest theme, 
That ever warmed a minstrel's dream, 

So foul, so false, a recreant prove I 



74 

How could I name love's very name, 
Nor wake my heart to notes of flame ! 

II. 

In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed ; 

In war, he mounts the warrior's steed ; 

In halls, in gay attire is seen ; 

In hamlets, dances on the green. 

Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, 

And men below, and saints above ; 

For love is heaven, and heaven is love. 

III. 

So thought Lord Cranstoun, as I ween, 
While, pondering deep the tender scene, 
He rode through Branksome's hawthorn green. 

But the Page shouted wild and shrill — 
And scarce his helmet could he don, 

When downward from the shady hill 

A stately knight came pricking on, 

7 



75 

That warrior's steed, so dapple-gray, 

Was dark with sweat, and splashed with clay ; 

His armour red with many a stain : 
He seemed in such a weary plight, 
As if he had ridden the live-long night; 

For it was William of Deloraine. 

IV. 
But no whit weary did he seem, 
When, dancing in the sunny beam, 
He marked the crane on the Baron's crest ; 
For his ready spear was in his rest. 

Few were the words, and stern and high, 
That marked the foemen's feudal hate ; 
For question fierce, and proud reply, 
Gave signal soon of dire debate. 
Their very coursers seemed to know 
That each was other's mortal foe ; 
And snorted fire, when wheeled around, 
To give each knight his vantage ground. 



76 

V. 

In rapid round the Baron bent ; 

He sighed a sigh, and prayed a prayer : 
The pra} T er was to his patron saint, 

The sigh was to his ladye fair. 
Stout Deloraine nor sighed, nor prayed, 
Nor saint, nor ladye, called to aid ; 
But he stooped his head, and couched his spear, 
And spurred his steed to full career. 
The meeting of these champions proud 
Seemed like the bursting thunder-cloud. 

VI. 

Stern was the dint the Borderer lent ! 

The stately Baron backwards bent ; 

Bent backwards to his horse's tail, 

And his plumes went scattering on the gale ; 

The tough ash spear, so stout and true, 

Into a thousand flinders flew. 

But Cranstoun's lance, of more avail, 

Pierced through, like silk, the Borderer's mail ; 






Through shield, and jack, and acton pasf, 
Deep in his bosom broke at last. — 
Still sate the warrior saddle fast, 
Till, stumbling in the mortal shock, 
Down went the steed, the girthing broke, 
Hurled on a heap lay man and horse. 
The Baron onward passed his course ; 
Nor knew — so giddy rolled his brain — 
His foe lay stretched upon the plain. 

VII. 

But when he reined his courser round, 
And saw his foeman on the ground 

Lie senseless as the bloody clay, 
He bade his Page to staunch the wound. 

And there beside the warrior stay, 
And tend him in his doubtful state, 
And lead him to Branksome castle-gate : 
His noble mind was inly moved 
For the kinsman of the maid he loved. 



78 

" This shalt thou do without delay ; 
No longer here myself may stay : 
Unless the swifter I speed away, 
Short shrift will be at my dying day." — 

VIII. 

Away in speed Lord Cranstoun rode ; 

The Goblin-Page behind abode : 

His lord's command he ne'er withstood, 

Though small his pleasure to do good. 

As the corslet off he took, 

The Dwarf espied the Mighty Book ! 

Much he marvelled, a knight of pride 

Like a book-bosomed priest should ride : 

He thought not to search or staunch the wound, 

Until the secret he had found. 

IX. 

The iron band, the iron clasp, 
Resisted long the elfin grasp ; 






79 

For when the first he had undone, 
It closed as he the next begun. 
Those iron clasps, that iron band, 
Would not yield to unchristened hand, 
Till he smeared the cover o'er 
With the Borderer's curdled gore ; 
A moment then the volume spread, 
And one short spell therein he read. 
It had much of glamour* might, 
Could make a ladye seem a knight ; 
The cobwebs on a dungeon wall 
Seem tapestry in lordly hall ; 
A nut-shell seem a gilded barge, 
A sheelingf seem a palace large, 
And youth seem age, and age seem youth- 
All was delusion, nought was truth. 

X. 

He had not read another spell, 
When on his cheek a buffet fell, 

* Magical delusion. f A shepherd's hut. 



80 

>• 

So fierce, it stretched him oil the plain. 

Beside the wounded Deloraine. 

From the ground he rose dismayed, 

And shook his huge and matted head ; 

One word he muttered, and no more — 

" Man of age, thou smitest sore !" — 

No more the Elfin Page durst try 

Into the wonderous Book to pry ; 

The clasps, though smeared with Christian gore, 

Shut faster than they were before. 

He hid it underneath his cloak. — 

Now, if you ask who gave the stroke, 

I cannot tell, so mot I thrive ; 

It was not given by man alive. 

XL 

Unwillingly himself he addressed, 
To do his master's high behest : 
He lifted up the living corse, 
And laid it on the weaiy horse ; 



81 

He led him into Branksome hall, 

Before the beards of the warders all ; 

And each did after swear and say, 

There only passed a wain of hay. 

He took him to Lord David's tower, 

Even to the Ladye's secret bower ; 

And, but that stronger spells were spread, 

And the door might not be opened, 

He had laid him on her very bed. 

Whatever he did of gramarye, # 

Was always done maliciously ; 

He flung the warrior on the ground. 

And the blood welled freshly from the wound, 

XII. 

As he repassed the outer court, 

He spied the fair young child at sport : 

He thought to train him to the wood ; 

For, at a word, be it understood, 

-He was always for ill, and never for good. 

* Magic. 

F 



Seemed to the boy, some comrade gay 
Led him forth to the woods to play ; 
On the draw-bridge the warders stout 
Saw a terrier and lurcher passing out, 

XIII. 

He led the boy o'er bank and fell, 

Until they came to a woodland brook ; 
The running stream dissolved the spell, 

And his own elvish shape he took. 
Could he have had his pleasure vilde, 
He had crippled the joints of the noble child; 
Or, with his fingers long and lean, 
Had strangled him in fiendish spleen: 
But his awful mother he had in dread, 
And also his power was limited ; 
So he but scowled on the startled child, 
And darted through the forest wild ; 
The woodland brook he bounding crossed, 
And laughed, and shouted, " Lost ! lost ! lost !" 



8S 

XIV. 

Full sore amazed at the wonderous change, 

And frightened, as a child might be, 
At the wild yell and visage strange, 

And the dark words of gramarye, 
The child, amidst the forest bower, 
Stood rooted like a lilye flower ; 

And when at length, with trembling pace, 
He sought to find where Branksome lay, 

He feared to see that grisly face 

Glare from some thicket on his way. 
Thus, starting oft, he journeyed on, 
And deeper in the wood is gone, — 
For aye the more he sought his way, 
The farther still he went astray, — 
Until he heard the mountains round 
Ring to the baying of a hound. 



84 

XV. 
And hark ! and hark ! the deep-mouthed bark 

Comes nigher still, and nigher ; 
Bursts on the path a dark blood-hound, 
His tawny muzzle tracked the ground, 

And his red eye shot fire. 
Soon as the wildered child saw he, 
He flew at him right furiouslie. 
I ween you would have seen with joy 
The bearing of the gallant boy, 
When, worthy of his noble sire, 
His wet cheek glowed 'twixt fear and ire ! 
He faced the blood-hound manfully, 
And held his little bat on high ; 
So fierce he struck, the dog, afraid, 
At cautious distance hoarsely bayed, 

But still in act to spring ; 
When dashed an archer through the glade, 
And when he saw the hound was stayed, 

He drew his tough bow-string ; 



85 

But a rough voice cried, " Shoot not, hoy ! 
Ho ! shoot not, Edward — 'tis a boy !" — 

XVI. 

The speaker issued from the wood, 
And checked his fellow's surly mood, 

And quelled the ban-dog's ire : 
He was an English yeoman good, 

And born in Lancashire. 
Well could he hit a fallow deer 

Five hundred feet him fro ; 
With hand more true, and eye more clear, 

No archer bended bow. 
His coal-black hair, shorn round and close, 

Set off his sun-burned face ; 
Old England's sign, St George's cross, 

His barret-cap did grace ; 
His bugle-horn hung by his side, 

All in a wolf-skin baldric tied ; 
And his short faulchion, sharp and clear, 
Had pierced the throat of many a deer. 



86 

XVII. 

His kirtle, made of forest green, 

Reached scantly to his knee ; 
And, at his belt, of arrows keen 

A furbished sheaf bore he ; 
His buckler scarce in breadth a span, 

No longer fence had he ; 
He never counted him a man, 

Would strike below the knee ; 
His slackened bow was in his hand, 
And the leash, that was his blood-hound's band. 

XVIII. 

He would not do the fair child harm, 
But held him with his powerful arm, 
That he might neither fight nor flee ; 
For when the Red-Cross spied he, 
The boy strove long and violently. 
" Now, by St George," the archer cries, 
" Edward, methinks we have a prize ! 



87 

This boy's fair face, and courage free, 
Shews he is come of high degree." — 

XIX. 

" Yes ! I am come of high degree, 

For I am the heir of bold Buccleuch ; 
And, if thou dost not set me free, 

False Suthron, thou shalt dearly rue ! 
For Walter of Harden shall come with speed, 
And William of Deloraine, good at need, 
And every Scott from Esk to Tweed ; 
And, if thou dost not let me go, 
Despite thy arrows, and thy bow, 
I'll have thee hanged to feed the crow !" — 

XX. 

* Gramercy, for thy good will, fair boy ! 
My mind was never set so high ; 
But if thou art chief of such a clan, 
And art the son of such a man, 



And ever comest to thy command, 

Our wardens had need to keep good order 
My bow of yew to a hazel wand, 

Thou'lt make them work upon the Border. 
Meantime, be pleased to come with me, 
For good Lord Dacre shalt thou see ; 
I think our work is well begun, 
When we have taken thy father's son." — 

XXI. 

Although the child was led away, 
In Branksome still he seemed to stay, 
For so the Dwarf his part did play ; 
And, in the shape of that young boy, 
He wrought the castle much annoy. 
The comrades of the young Buccleuch 
He pinched, and beat, and overthrew ; 
Nay, some of them he well nigh slew. 
He tore Dame Maudlin's silken tire, 
And, as Sym Hall stood by the fire, 



89 

He lighted the match of his bandeiier, * 
And woefully scorched the hackbutteer. f 
It may hardly be thought or said, 
The mischief that the urchin made, 
Till many of the castle guessed, 
That the young Baron was possessed! 

XXII. 

Well I ween, the charm he held 
The noble Ladye had soon dispelled ; 
But she was deeply busied then 
To tend the wounded Deloraine. 

Much she wondered to find him lie, 

On the stone threshold stretched along; 

She thought some spirit of the sky 

Had done the bold moss-trooper wrong ; 
Because, despite her precept dread, 
Perchance he in the Book had read ; 

* Bandeiier, belt for carrying ammunition, 
f Hackbuttee?^ musketeer. 



90 

But the broken lance in his bosom stood, 
And it was earthly steel and wood. 

XXIII. 

She drew the splinter from the wound, 

And with a charm she staunched the blood ; 

She bade the gash be cleansed and bound : 
No longer by his couch she stood ; 

But she has ta'en the broken lance, 
And washed it from the clotted gore, 
And salved the splinter o'er and o'er. 

William of Deloraine, in trance, 

Whene'er she turned it round and round, 
Twisted, as if she galled his wound. 
Then to her maidens she did say, 
That he should be whole man and sound, 
Within the course of a night and day. 

Full long she toiled ; for she did rue 

Mishap to friend so stout and true. 



91 

XXIV. 

So passed the day- — the evening fell, 
'Twas near the time of curfew bell ; 
The air was mild, the wind was calm, 
The stream was smooth, the dew was balm ; 
E'en the rude watchman, on the tower, 
Enjoyed and blessed the lovely hour. 
Far more fair Margaret loved and blessed 
The hour of silence and of rest. 
On the high turret sitting lone, 
She waked at times the lute's soft tone ; 
Touched a wild note, and all between 
Thought of the bower of hawthorns green. 
Her golden hair streamed free from band, 
Her fair cheek rested on her hand, 
Her blue eyes sought the west afar, 
For lovers love the western star. 

XXV. 
Is yon the star, o'er Penchryst Pen, 
That rises slowly to her ken, 



92 

And, spreading broad its wavering light, 

Shakes its loose tresses on the night ? 

Is yon red glare the western star ? — 

O, 'tis the beacon-blaze of war ! 

Scarce could she draw her tightened breath, 

For well she knew the fire of death ! 

XXVI. 

The Warder viewed it blazing strong, 
And blew his war-note loud and long, 
Till, at the high and haughty sound, 
Rock, wood, and river, rung around. 
The blast alarmed the festal hall, 
And startled forth the warriors all; 
Far downward, in the castle-yard, 
Full many a torch and cresset glared ; 
And helms and plumes, confusedly tossed, 
Were in the blaze half-seen, half-lost ; 
And spears in wild disorder shook, 
Like reeds beside a frozen brook. 



93 

XXVII. 
The Seneschal, whose silver hair 
Was reddened by the torches' glare, 
Stood in the midst, with gesture proud, 
And issued forth his mandates loud. — 
<e On Penchryst glows a bale * of fire, 
And three are kindling on Priesthaughswire ; 

Ride out, ride out, 

The foe to scout I 
Mount, mount for Branksome, f every man ! 
Thou, Todrig, warn the Johnstone clan, 

That ever are true and stout. — 
Ye need not send to Liddesdale ; 
For, when they see the blazing bale, 
Elliots and Armstrongs never fail. — 
Ride, Alton, ride, for death and life ! 
And warn the warden of the strife. 
Young Gilbert, let our beacon blaze, 
Our kin, and clan, and friends, to raise." — 

* Bale, beacon-faggot. 

f Mount for Branksome was the gathering word of the ftcotts. 



94* 

XXVIII. 

Fair Margaret, from the turret head, 
Heard , far below, the coursers' tread, 

While loud the harness rung, 
As to their seats, with clamour dread, 

The ready horsemen sprung ; 
And trampling hoofs, and iron coats, 
And leaders' voices, mingled notes, 
And out ! and out E 
In hasty route, 

The horsemen galloped forth ; 
Dispersing to the south to scout, 

And east, and west, and north, 
To view their coming enemies, 
And warn their vassals, and allies. 

XXIX. 

The ready page, with hurried hand, 
JVwaked the need-fire's* slumbering brand, 

* Need-fire, beacon. 






95 

And ruddy blushed the heaven : 
For a sheet of flame, from the turret high, 
Waved like a blood-flag on the sky, 

All flaring and uneven ; 
And soon a score of fires, I ween, 
From height, and hill, and cliff, were seen ; 
Each with warlike tidings fraught ; 
Each from each the signal caught; 
Each after each they glanced to sight, 
As stars arise upon the night. 
They gleamed on many a dusky tarn,* 
Haunted by the lonely earn ; 
On many a cairn's J gray pyramid, 
Where urns of mighty chiefs lie hid ; 
Till high Dunedin the blazes saw, 
From Soltra and Dumpender Law ; 
And Lothian heard the Regent's order, 
That all should bowne || them for the Border. 

* Tarn, a mountain lake. f Earn, a Scottish eagle. 
% Cairn, a pile of stones. |j Bozvne, make ready. 



96 

XXX. 

The livelong night in Branksome rang 

The ceaseless sound of steel ; 
The castle-bell, with backward clang, 

Sent forth the larum peal ; 
Was frequent heard the heavy jar, 
Where massy stone and iron bar 
Were piled on echoing keep and tower, 
To whelm the foe with deadly shower ; 
Was frequent heard the changing guard, 
And watch-word from the sleepless ward ; 
While, wearied by the endless din, 
JBlood-hound and ban-dog yelled within. 

XXXI. 

Tne noble Dame, amid the broil, 
Shared the gray Seneschal's high toil, 
And spoke of danger with a smile ; 
Cheered the young knights, and council sage 
Held with the chiefs of riper age. 



97 

No tidings of the foe were brought, 
Nor of his numbers knew they ought, 
Nor in what time the truce he sought. 

Some said, that there were thousands ten ; 
And others weened that it was nought 
But Leven Clans, or Tynedale men, 
Who came to gather in black mail ; # 
And Liddisdale, with small avail, 

Might drive them lightly back agen. 
So passed the anxious night away, 
And welcome was the peep of day. 



Ceased the high sound — the listening throng 
Applaud the Master of the Song ; 
And marvel much, in helpless age, 
So hard should be his pilgrimage. 



* Protection-money exacted by free-booters. 
6 



98 

Had he no friend — no daughter dear, 
His wandering toil to share and cheer; 
No son, to be his father's stay, 
And guide him on the rugged way ? — 
" Aye ! once he had — but he was dead !" 
Upon the harp he stooped his head, 
And busied himself the strings withal, 
To hide the tear, that fain would fall. 
In solemn measure, soft and slow, 
Arose a father's notes of woe. 



THE 

LAY 

OF 

THE LAST MINSTREL. 



CANTO FOURTH. 



THE 



LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 



CANTO FOURTH* 



L 

Sweet Teviot! on thy silver tide 
The glaring bale-fires blaze no more ; 

No longer steel-clad warriors ride 
Along thy wild and willowed shore ; 

Where'er thou wind'st by dale or hill, 

All, all is peaceful, all is stilly 



102 

As if thy waves, since Time was born, 
Since first they rolled upon the Tweed, 
Had only heard the shepherd's reed, 

Nor started at the bugle-horn. 

II. 

Unlike the tide of human time, 

Which, though it change in ceaseless flow, 

Retains each grief, retains each crime, 

Its earliest course was doomed to know, 
And, darker as it downward bears, 
Is stained with past and present tears. 

Low as that tide has ebbed with me, 
It still reflects to memory's eye 
The hour, my brave, my only boy, 

Fell by the side of great Dundee. 
Why, when trje volleying musket played 
Against the bloody Highland blade, 
Why was not I beside him laid ! — 
Enough — he died the death of fame ; 
Enough — he died with conquering Graeme. 



103 

III. 

Now over Border dale and fell, 

Full wide and far was terror spread ; 
For pathless marsh, and mountain cell, 

The peasant left his lowly shed. 
The frightened flocks and herds were pent 
Beneath the peel's rude battlement ; 
And maids and matrons dropped the tear, 
While ready warriors seized the spear. 
From Branksome's towers, the watchman's eye 
Dun wreaths of distant smoke can spy, 
Which, curling in the rising sun, 
Shewed southern ravage was begun. 

IV. 

Now loud the heedful gate-ward cried — 
" Prepare ye all for blows and blood ! 

Watt Tinlinn, from the Lid die-side, 
Comes wading through the flood. 

Full oft the Tynedale snatchers knock 

At his lone gate, and prove the lock ; 



104 

It was but last St Barnabright 
They sieged him a whole summer night, 
But fled at morning ; well they knew, 
In vain he never twanged the yew. 
Right sharp has been the evening shower, 
That drove him from his Liddle tower ; 
And, by my faith," the gate-ward said, 
" I think 'twill prove a Warden-Raid." * 

V. 

While thus he spoke, the bold yeoman 
Entered the echoing barbican. 
He led a small and shaggy nag, 
That through a bog, from hag to hag, f 
Could bound like any Bilhope stag. 
It bore his wife and children twain ; 
A half-clothed serf J was all their train : 
His wife, stout, ruddy, and dark-browed, 
Of silver broach and bracelet proud, 

* An inroad commanded by the Warden in person. 
f The broken ground in a bog. 
t Bonds-man. 



105 

Laughed to her friends among the crowd. 

tt r i * • id'« a mi 

He was of stature passing tail, 

But sparely formed, and lean withal : 

A battered morion on his brow ; 

A leathern jack, as fence enow, 

On his broad shoulders loosely hung ; 

A border-axe behind was slung ; 

His spear, six Scottish ells in length, 
Seemed newly died with gore ; 

His shafts and bow, of wonderous strength^ 
His hardy partner bore. 



VI. 

Thus to the Ladye did Tinlinn shew 
The tidings of the English foe : — 
" Belted Will Howard is marching here, 
And hot Lord Dacre, with many a spear, 
And all the German hagbut-men, * 
Who have long lain at Askerten : 
They crossed the Liddle at curfew hour, 
And burned my little lonely tower ; 






* Musketeers, 



106 

The fiend receive their souls therefor I 

It had not been burned this year and more. 

Barn-yard and dwelling, blazing bright, 

Served to guide me on my flight ; 

But I was chased the live-long night. 

Black John of Akeshaw, and Fergus Graeme, 

Fast upon my traces came, 

Until I turned at Priesthaugh Scrogg, 

And shot their horses in the bog, 

Slew Fergus with my lance outright — 

I had him long at high despite : 

He drove my cows last Fastern's night." — 

i 

VII. 

Now weary scouts from Liddesdale, 
Fast hurrying in, confirmed the tale ; 
As far as they could judge by ken, 

Three hours would bring to Teviot's strand 
Three thousand armed Englishmen. — 
Meanwhile, full many a warlike band, 



107 

From Teviot, Aill, and Ettrick shade, 
Came in, their Chiefs defence to aid. 

There was saddling and mounting in haste, 

There was pricking o'er moor and lee ; 
He that was last at the trysting place 
Was but lightly held of his gay ladye. 

VII. 

From fair St Mary's silver wave, 

From dreary Gamescleuch's dusky height, 
His ready lances Thirlestane brave 

Arrayed beneath a banner bright. 
The tressured fleur-de-luce he claims 
To wreathe his shield, since royal James^ 
Encamped by Fala's mossy wave, 
The proud distinction grateful gave, 

For faith mid feudal jars ; 
What time, save Thirlestane alone, 
Of Scotland's stubborn barons none 

Would march to southern wars 



108 

And hence, in fair remembrance worn, 
Yon sheaf of spears his crest has borne 5 
Hence his high motto shines revealed, — 
" Heady, aye ready/ for the field. 

IX. 

An aged knight, to danger steeled, 
With many a moss-trooper, came on 5 

And azure in a golden field, 

The stars and crescent graced his shield, 
Without the bend of Murdieston. 

Wide lay his lands round Oakwood tower, 

And wide round haunted Castle-Ower ; 

High over Borthwick's mountain flood, 

His wood-embosomed mansion stood ; 

In the dark glen, so deep below, 

The herds of plundered England low ; 

His bold retainers' daily food, 

And bought with danger, blows, and blood* 



109 

Marauding chief ! his sole delight 
The moonlight raid, the morning fight ; 
Not even the Flower of Yarrow's charms, 
In youth, might tame his rage for arm3 ; 
And still, in age, he spurned at rest, 
And still his brows the helmet pressed, 
Albeit the blanched locks below 
Were white as Dinlay's spotless snow : 

Five stately warriors drew the sword 
Before their father's band ; 

A braver knight than Harden's lord 

♦ Ne'er belted on a brand, 

X. 

Scotts of Eskdale, a stalwart band, 

Came trooping down the Todshawhill ; 

By the sword they won their land, 
And by the sword they hold it still. 

Hearken, Ladye, to the tale, 

How thy sires won fair Eskdale. 



110 

Earl Morton was lord of that valley fair, 

The Beattisons were his vassals there. 

The Earl was gentle, and mild of mood, 

The vassals were warlike, and fierce, and rude ; 

High of heart, and haughty of word, 

Little they recked of a tame liege lord. 

The Earl to fair Eskdale came, 

Homage and seignory to claim : 

Of Gilbert the Galliard, a heriot # he sought, 

Saying, " Give thy best steed, as a vassal ought/ 

— iC Dear to me is my bonny white steed, 

Oft has he helped me at pinch of need ; 

Lord and Earl though thou be, I trow, 

I can rein Bucksfoot better than thou/' — 

Word on word gave fuel to fire, 

Till so highly blazed the Beattisons' ire, 

But that the Earl the flight had ta'en, 

The vassals there their lord had slain. 



* The feudal superior, in certain cases, was entitled to the 
best horse of the vassal, in name of Heriot, or Herezeld. 



Ill 

Sore he plied both whip and spur, 

As he urged his steed through Eskdale muir ; 

And it fell down a weary weight, 

Just on the threshold of Branksome gate. 

XL 

The Earl was a wrathful man to see, 

Full fain avenged would he be. 

In haste to Branksome's lord he spoke, 

Saying — " Take these traitors to thy yoke ; 

For a cast of hawks, and a purse of gold, 

All Eskdale I'll sell thee, to have and hold : 

Beshrew thy heart, of the Beattisons' clan 

If thou leavest on Eske a landed man ; 

But spare Woodkerrick's lands alone, 

For he lent me his horse to escape upon." — 

A glad man then was Branksome bold, 

Down he flung him the purse of gold. 

To Eskdale soon he spurred amain, 

And with him five hundred riders has ta'en. 



112 

He left his merrymen in the mist of the hill, 

And bade them hold them close and still ; 

And alone he wended to the plain, 

To meet with the Galliard and all his train. 

To Gilbert the Galliard thus he said : — 

" Know thou me for thy liege lord and head ; 

Deal not with me as with Morton tame, 

For Seotts play best at the roughest game. 

Give me in peace my heriot due, 

Thy bonny white steed, or thou shalt rue. 

If my horn I three times wind, 

Eskdale shall long have the sound in mind." — 

XII. 

Loudly the Beattison laughed in scorn ; — 
" Little care we for thy winded horn. 
Ne'er shall it be the Galliard's lot, 
To yield his steed to a haughty Scott. 
Wend thou to Branksome back on foot, 
With rusty spur and miry boot. ,, — 



113 

He blew his bugle so loud and hoarse, 

That the dim deer started at far Craikcross ; 

He blew again so loud and clear, 

Through the gray mountain mist there did lances 

appear ; 
And the third blast rang with such a din, 
That the echoes answered from Pentoun-linn ; 
And all his riders came lightly in. 
Then had you seen a gallant shock, 
When saddles were emptied, and lances broke ! 
For each scornful word the Galliard had said, 
A Beattison on the field was laid. 
His own good sword the chieftain drew, 
And he bore the Galliard through and through ; 
Where the Beattison's blood mixed with the rill, 
The Gal Hard's haugh, men call it still. 
The Scotts have scattered the Beattison clan, 
In Eskedale they left but one landed man. 
The valley of Eske, from the mouth to the source, 
Was lost and won for that bonny white horse. 



114 

XIII. 

Whitslade the Hawk, and Headshaw came, 
And warriors more than I may name ; 
From Yarrow-cleuch to Hindhaugh-swair, 

From Woodhouselie to Chester-glen, 
Trooped man and horse, and bow and spear ; 

Their gathering word was Bellenden. 
And better hearts o'er Border sod 
To siege or rescue never rode. 

The Ladye marked the aids come in, 
And high her heart of pride arose : 
She bade her youthful son attend, 
That he might know his father's friend, 

And learn to face his foes. 
" The boy is ripe to look on war ; 

I saw him draw a cross-bow stiff, 
And his true arrow struck afar 
The raven's nest upon the cliff; 
The Red Cross, on a southern breast, 
Is broader than the raven's nest : 



115 

Thou,, Whitslade, shalt teach him his weapon 

wield, 
And o'er him hold his father's shield." — 

XIV. 

Well may you think, the wily Page 
Cared not to face the Laclye sage. 
He counterfeited childish fear, 
And shrieked, and shed full many a tear, 

And moaned and plained in manner wild. 
The attendants to the Ladye told, 

Some fairy, sure, had changed the child, 
That wont to be so free and bold. 
Then wrathful was the noble dame ; 
She blushed blood-red for very shame : — 
" Hence ! ere the clan his faintness view ; 
Hence with the weakling to Buccleuch ! — 
Watt Tinlinn, thou shalt be his guide 
To Rangleburn's lonely side. — 



116 

Sure some fell fiend has cursed our line, 
That coward should e'er be son of mine !" — 

. XV. 
A heavy task Watt Tinlinn had, 
To guide the counterfeited lad. 
Soon as his palfrey felt the weight 
Of that ill-omen'd elvish freight, 
He bolted, sprung, and reared amain, 
Nor heeded bit, nor curb, nor rein. 
It cost Watt Tinlinn mickle toil 
To drive him but a Scottish mile; 

But, as a shallow brook they crossed, 
The elf, amid the running stream, 
His figure changed, like form in dream, 

And fled, and shouted, " Lost ! lost ! lost !" 
Full fast the urchin ran and laughed, 
But faster still a cloth-yard shaft 
Whistled from startled Tinlinn's yew, 
And pierced his shoulder through and through. 



11.7 

Although the imp might not be slain, 
And though the wound soon healed again, 
Yet, as he ran, he yelled for pain ; 
And Watt of Tinlinn, much aghast, 
Rode back to Branksome fiery fast. 

XVL 
Soon on the hill's steep verge he stood, 
That looks o'er Branksome's towers and wood ; 
And martial murmurs, from below, 
Proclaimed the approaching southern foe. 
Through the dark wood, in mingled tone, 
Were Border-pipes and bugles blown ; 
The coursers' neighing he could ken, 
And measured tread of marching men ; 
While broke at times the solemn hum, 
The Almayn's sullen kettle-drum ; 
And banners tall, of crimson sheen, 

Above the copse appear; 
And, glistening through the hawthorns green, 

Shine helm, and shield, and spear. 



118 

XVII. 

Light foray ers first, to view the ground, 
Spurred their fleet coursers loosely round ; 
Behind, in close array, and fast, 

The Kendal archers, all in green, 
Obedient to the bugle blast, 

Advancing from the wood are seen. 
To back and guard the archer band, 
Lord Dacre's bill-men were at hand : 
A hardy race, on Irthing bred, 
With kirtles white, and crosses red, 
Arrayed beneath the banner tall, 
That streamed o'er Acre's conquered wall; 
And minstrels, as they marched in order, 
Played, " Noble Lord Dacre, he dwells on the Border.' 

XVIII. 

Behind the English bill and bow, 
The mercenaries, linn and slow, 



3 19 

Moved on to fight, in dark array, 
By Conrad led of Wolfenstein, 
Who brought the band from distant Rhine, 

And sold their blood for foreign pay. 
The camp their home, their law the sword, 
They knew no country, owned no lord : 
They were not armed like England's sons, 
But bore the levin-darting guns ; 
Buff-coats, all frounced and 'broidered o'er^ 
And morsing-homs # and scarfs they wore ; 
Each better knee was bared, to aid 
The warriors in the escalade ; 
All, as they marched, in rugged tongue, 
Songs of Teutonic feuds they sung. 

XIX. 

But louder still the clamour grew, 
And louder still the minstrels blew, 

* Powder-flasks, 



1£0 

When, from beneath the greenwood tree, 

Rode forth Lord Howard's chivalry ; 

His men at arms, with glaive and spear, 

Brought up the battle's glittering rear. 

There many a youthful knight, full keen 

To gain his spurs, in arms w r as seen; 

With favour in his crest, or glove, 

Memorial of his ladye-love. 

So rode they forth in fair array, 

Till fall their lengthened lines display ; 

Then called a halt, and made a stand, 

And cried, " St George, for merry England !"- 

XX. 

Now every English eye, intent, 

On Branksome's armed towers was bent ; 

So near they were, that they might know 

The straining harsh of each cross-bow ; 

On battlement and bartizan 

Gleamed axe, and spear, and partizan ; 



mi 

Falcon and culver, # on each tower, 
Stood prompt their deadly hail to shower ; 
And flashing armour frequent broke 
From eddying whirls of sable smoke, 
Where, upon tower and turret head, 
The seething pitch and molten lead 
Reeked, like a witch's cauldron red. 
While yet they gaze, the bridges fall, 
The wicket opes, and from the wall 
Rides forth the hoary Seneschal. 

XXI. 

Armed he rode, all save the head, 

His white beard o'er his breast-plate spread; 

Unbroke by age, erect his seat, 

He ruled his eager courser's gait ; 

Forced him, with chastened fire, to prance, 

And, high curvetting, slow advance : 

* Ancient pieces of artillery. 



\9& 

In sign of truce, his better hand 
Displayed a peeled willow wand ; 
His squire, attending in the rear, 
Bore high a gauntlet on a spear. 
When they espied him riding out, 
Lord Howard and Lord Dacre stout 
Sped to the front of their array, 
To hear what this old knight should say. 

XXII. 

<e Ye English warden lords, of you 
Demands the Ladye of Buccleuch, 
Why, 'gainst the truce of Border-tide, 
In hostile guise ye dare to ride, 
With Kendal bow, and Gilsland brand, 
And all yon mercenary band, 
Upon the bounds of fair Scotland ? 
My Ladye reads you swith return ; 
And, if but one poor straw you burn, 
Or do our towers so much molest, 
As scare one swallow from her nest, 



St Mary ! but we'll light a brand, 

Shall warm your hearths in Cumberland."- 

XXIII. 

A wrathful man was Dacre's lord, 
But calmer Howard took the word : — 
" May't please thy Dame, Sir Seneschal, 
To seek the castle's outward wall, 
Our pursuivant-at-arms shall shew, 
Both why we came, and when we go." — 
The message sped, the noble Dame 
To the walls' outward circle came ; 
Each chief around leaned on his spear, 
To see the pursuivant appear. 
All in Lord Howard's livery dressed, 
The lion argent decked his breast ; 
He led a boy of blooming hue — 
O sight to meet a mother's view ! 
It was the heir of great Buccleuch. 
Obeisance meet the herald made, 
And thus his master's will he said. 



124 

XXIV. 

" It irks, high Dame, my noble Lords, 
'Gainst laclye fair to draw their swords ; 
But yet they may not tamely see, 
All through the western wardenry, 
Your law-contemning kinsmen ride, 
And burn and spoil the Border-side ; 
And ill beseems your rank and birth 
To make your towers a flemens-firth. # 
We claim from thee William of Deloraine, 
That he may suffer march-treason pain : f 
It was but last St Cuthbert's even 
He pricked to Stapleton on Leven, 
Harried J the lands of Richard Musgrave, 
And slew his brother by dint of glaive. 
Then, since a lone and widowed Dame 
These restless riders may not tame, 



* An asylum for outlaws. f Border treason, 

t Plundered. 



125 

Either receive within thy towers 
Two hundred of my master's powers, 
Or straight they sound their warison,* 
And storm and spoil thy garrison ; 
And this fair hoy, to London led, 
Shall good King Edward's page he bred/ 

XXV. 
He ceased — and loud the Boy did cry, 
And stretched his little arms on high ; 
Implored for aid each well-known face, 
And strove to seek the Dame's embrace. 
A moment changed that Ladye's cheer, 
Gushed to her eye the unbidden tear ; 
She gazed upon the leaders round, 
And dark and sad each warrior frowned ; 
Then, deep within her sobbing breast 
She locked the straggling sigh to rest; 

* Note of assault. 



126 

Unaltered and collected stood,, 
And thus replied, in dauntless mood. 

XXVI. 

" Say to your Lords of high eniprize, 

Who war on women and on hoys, 

That either William of Deloraine 

Will cleanse him, by oath, of march-treason stain, 

Or else he will the combat take 

'Gainst Musgrave, for his honour's sake. 

No knight in Cumberland so good, 

But William may count with him kin and blood. 

Knighthood he took of Douglas' sword, 

When English blood swelled Ancram ford ; 

And but that Lord Dacre's steed was wight, 

And bare him ably in the flight, 

Himself had seen him dubbed a knight. 

For the young heir of Branksome's line, 

God be his aid, and God be mine ; 



127 

Through me no friend shall meet his doom ; 
Here, while I live, no foe finds room. 
Then, if thy lords their purpose urge, 
Take our defiance loud and high ; 
Our slogan is their lyke-wake # dirge, 

Our moat, the grave where they shall lie." — 

XXVII. 

Proud she looked round, applause to claim — 
Then lightened Thirlestane's eye of flame ; 

His bugle Watt of Harden blew ; 
Pensils and pennons wide were flung, 
To heaven the Border slogan rung, 

" St Mary for the young Buccleuch !'* 
The English war-cry answered wide, 

And forward bent each southern spear \ 
Each Kendal archer made a stride, 

* Lyke-zoake, the watching a corpse previous to interment. 



128 

And drew the bow-string to his ear ; 
Each minstrel's war-note loud was blown ;- 
But, e'er a gray-goose shaft had flown, 

A horseman galloped from the rear. 

XXVIII. 

" Ah ! noble Lords !" he, breathless, said, 
" What treason has your inarch betrayed ? 
What make you here, from aid so far, 
Before you walls, around you war ? 
Your foemen triumph in the thought, 
That in the toils the lion's caught. 
Already on dark Ruberslaw 
The Douglas holds his weapon-schaw ; * 
The lances, waving in his train, 
Clothe the dun heath like autumn grain ; 
And on the Lid die's northern strand, 
To bar retreat to Cumberland, 

* Weapon-schaw, the military array of a county. 



129 

Lord Maxwell ranks his merry-men good, 
Beneath the eagle and the rood ; 
And Jedwood, Eske, and Teviotdale, 

Have to proud Angus come ; 
And all the Merse and Lauderdale 
Have risen with haughty Home. 
An exile from Northumberland, 

In Liddesdale I've wandered long ; 
But still my heart was with merry England, 
And cannot brook my country's wrong ; 
And hard I've spurred all night, to shew 
The mustering of the coming foe." — 

XXIX. 

* And let them come !" fierce Dacre cried ; 
ee For soon yon crest, my father's pride, 
That swept the shores of Judah's sea, 
And waved in gales of Galilee, 
From Branksome's highest towers displayed, 
Shall mock the rescue's lingering aid ! — 
i 



130 

Level each harquebuss on row ; 
Draw,, merry archers, draw the bow ; 
Up, bill-men, to the walls, and cry, 
Dacre for England, win or die !" — 

XXX. 

" Yet hear," quoth Howard, " calmly hear, 

Nor deem my words the words of fear : 

For who, in field or foray slack, 

Saw the blanche lion e'er fall back ? 

But thus to risque our Border flower 

In strife against a kingdom's power, 

Ten thousand Scots 'gainst thousands three, 

Certes, were desperate policy. 

Nay, take the terms the Ladye made, 

E'er conscious of the advancing aid : 

Let Musgrave meet fierce Deloraine 

In single fight ; and if he gain, 

He gains for us ; but if he's crossed, 

Tis but a single warrior lost : 



131 

The rest, retreating as they came, 
Avoid defeat, and death, and shame." — 

XXXI. 

Ill could the haughty Dacre brook 
His brother-warden's sage rebuke ; 
And yet his forward step he staid, 
And slow and sullenly obeyed. 
But ne'er again the Border side 
Did these two lords in friendship ride ; 
And this slight discontent, men say, 
Cost blood upon another day. 

XXXII. 

The pursuivant-at-arms again 
Before the castle took his stand ; 

His trumpet called, with parleying strain, 
The leaders of the Scottish band ; 

And he defied, in Musgrave's right, 

Stout Deloraine to single fight ; 



A gauntlet at their feet he laid, 

And thus the terms of fight he said :— 

u If in the lists good Musgrave's sword 

Vanquish the Knight of Deloraine, 
Your youthful chieftain, Branksome's lord, 

Shall hostage for his elan remain : 
If Deloraine foil good Musgrave, 
The hoy his liberty shall have. 

Howe'er it falls, the English band, 
Unh arming Scots, by Scots unharmed., 
In peaceful march, like men unarmed, 

Shall straight retreat to Cumberland."— 

XXXIII. 

Unconscious of the near relief, 

The proffer pleased each Scottish chief^ 

Though much the Ladye sage gainsayed ; 
For though their hearts were brave and true, 
From Jedwood's recent sack they knew, 

How tardy was the regent's aid : 



133 

And you may guess the noble Dame 

Durst not the secret prescience own, 
Sprung from the art she might not name, 

By which the coming help was known. 
Closed was the compact, and agreed, 
That lists should be inclosed with speed, 

Beneath the castle, on a lawn : 
They fixed the morrow for the strife, 
On foot, with Scottish axe and knife, 

At the fourth hour from peep of dawn ; 
When Deloraine, from sickness freed, 
Or else a champion in his stead, 
Should for himself and chieftain stand, 
Against stout Musgrave, hand to hand. 

XXXIV. 

I know right well, that, in their lay, 
Full many minstrels sing and say, 

Such combat should be made on horse, 



On foaming steed, in full career, 
With brand to aid, when as the spear 

Should shiver in the course : 
But he, the jovial Harper, taught 
Me, yet a youth, how it was fought, 

In guise which now I say ; 
He knew each ordinance and clause 
Of black Lord Archibald's battle laws, 

In the old Douglas' day. 
He brooked not, he, that scoffing tongue 
Should tax his minstrelsy with wrong, 

Or call his song untrue : 
For this, when they the goblet plied, 
And such rude taunt had chafed his pride, 

The bard of Reull he slew. 
On Teviot's side, in fight they stood, 
And tuneful hands were stained with blood ; 
Where still the thorn's white branches wave, 
Memorial o'er his rival's grave. 



135 

XXXV. 

Why should I tell the rigid doom, 
That dragged my master to his tomb ; 

How Ousenam's maidens tore their hair, 
Wept till their eyes were dead and dim, 
And wrung their hands for love of him, 

Who died at Jed wood Air ? 
He died ! — his scholars, one by one, 
To the cold silent grave are gone ; 
And I, alas ! survive alone, 
To muse o'er rivalries of yore, 
And grieve that I shall hear no more 
The strains, with envy heard before ; 
For, with my minstrel brethren fled, 
My jealousy of song is dead. 



He paused : the listening dames again 
Applaud the hoary Minstrel's strain. 



136 

With many a word of kindly cheer, — 
In pity half, and half sincere, — 
Marvelled the Duchess how so well 
His legendary song could tell — 
Of ancient deeds, so long forgot ; 
Of feuds, whose memory was not ; 
Of forests, now laid waste and bare ; 
Of towers, which harbour now the hare ; 
Of manners, long since changed and gone ; 
Of chiefs, who under their gray stone 
So long had slept, that fickle Fame 
Had blotted from her rolls their name, 
And twined round some new minion's head 
The fading wreath for which they bled ; 
In sooth, 'twas strange, this old man's verse 
Could call them from their marble hearse. 

The Harper smiled, well-pleased ; for ne'er 
Was flattery lost on poet's ear : 
A simple race ! they waste their toil 
For the vain tribute of asmile; 



137 

E'en when in age their flame expires. 
Her dulcet breath can fan its fires : 
Their drooping fancy wakes at praise, 
And strives to trim the short-lived blaze. 

Smiled then, well-pleased, the Aged Man, 
And thus his tale continued ran. 



THE 



LAY 



OF 

THE LAST MINSTREL. 



CANTO FIFTH. 



THE 



LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 

CANTO FIFTH. 



I. 

Call it not vain : — they do not err, 

Who say > that, when the Poet dies, 
Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, 
And celebrates his obsequies ; 
Who say, tall cliff, and cavern lone, 
For the departed bard make moan ; 
That mountains weep in crystal rill ; 
Thit flowers in tears of balm distil ; 



142 

Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, 
And oaks, in deeper groan, reply ; 
And rivers teach their rushing wave 
To murmur dirges round his grave. 

II. 

Not that, in sooth, o'er mortal urn 
Those things inanimate can mourn ; 
But that the stream, the wood, the gale, 
Is vocal with the plaintive wail 
Of those, who, else forgotten long, 
Lived in the poet's faithful song, 
And, with the poet's parting breath, 
Whose memory feels a second death. 
The maid's pale shade, who wails her lot, 
That love, true love, should be forgot, 
From rose and hawthorn shakes the tear 
Upon the gentle minstrel's bier : 
The phantom knight, his glory fled, 
Mourns o'er the field he heaped with dead; 



143 

Mounts the wild blast that sweeps amain, 

And shrieks along the battle-plain : 

The chief, whose antique crownlet long 

Still sparkled in the feudal song, 

Now, from the mountain's misty throne, 

Sees, in the thanedom once his own, 

His ashes undistinguished lie, 

His place, his power, his memory die : 

His groans the lonely caverns fill, 

His tears of rage impel the rill ; 

All mourn the minstrel's harp unstrung, 

Their name unknown, their praise unsung. 

III. 

Scarcely the hot assault was staid, 
The terms of truce were scarcely made, 
When they could spy, from Branksome's towels, 
The advancing march of martial powers ; 
Thick clouds of dust afar appeared, 
And trampling steeds were faintly heard 5 



144 

Bright spears, above the columns dun, 

Glanced momentary to the sun ; 

And feudal banners fair displayed 

The bands that moved to Branksome's aid. 

IV. 

Vails not to tell each hardy clan, 

From the fair Middle Marches came ; 
The Bloody Heart blazed in the van, 

Announcing Douglas, dreaded name ! 
Vails not to tell what steeds did spurn, 
Where the Seven Spears of Wedderburne 

Their men in battle-order set ; 
And Swinton laid the lance in rest, 
That tamed of yore the sparkling crest 

Of Clarence's Plantagenet. 
Nor lists I say what hundreds more, 
From the rich Merse and Lammermore^ 
And Tweed's fair borders, to the war, 



145 

Beneath the crest of old Dunbar, 
And Hepburn's mingled banners come, 

Down the steep mountain glittering far, 
And shouting still, " a Home ! a Home !" 

V. 

Now squire and knight, from Branksome sent, 
On many a courteous message went j 
To every chief and lord they paid 
Meet thanks for prompt and powerful aid ; 
And told them, — how a truce was made, 
And how a day of fight was ta'en 
? Twixt Musgrave and stout Deloraine ; 

And how the Ladye prayed them dear, 
That all would stay the fight to see, 
And deign, in love and courtesy, 
To taste of Branksome cheer. 
Nor, while they bade to feast each Scot, 
Were England's noble Lords forgot ; 



146 

Himself, the hoary Seneschal, 
Rode forth, in seemly terms to call 
Those gallant foes to Branksome Hall. 
Accepted Howard, than whom knight 
Was never dubbed, more bold in fight ; 
Nor, when from war and armour free, 
More famed for stately courtesy : 
But angry Dacre rather chose 
In his pavilion to repose. 

VI. 

Now, noble Dame, perchance you ask, 
How these two hostile armies met? 
Deeming it were no easy task 

To keep the truce which here was set ; 
Where martial spirits, all on fire, 
Breathed only blood and mortal ire. — 
By mutual inroads, mutual blows, 
By habit, and by nation, foes, 



147 

They met on Teviot's strand : 
They met, and sate them mingled down, 
Without a threat, without a frown, 

As brothers meet in foreign land : 
The hands, the spear that lately grasped, 
Still in the mailed gauntlet clasped, 

Were interchanged in greeting dear ; 
Visors were raised, and faces shewn, 
And many a friend, to friend made known, 

Partook of social cheer. 
Some drove the jolly bowl about; 

With dice and draughts some chased the day ; 
And some, with many a merry shout, 
In riot, revelry, and rout,, 

Pursued the foot-ball play. 

VII. 

Yet, be it known, had bugles blown, 
Or sign of war been seen, 



148 

Those bands, so fair together ranged, 
Those hands, so frankly interchanged, 

Had dyed with gore the green : 
The merry shout by Teviot-side 
Had sunk in war-cries wild and wide, 

And in the groan of death ; 
And whingers, * now in friendship bare, 
The social meal to part and share, 

Had found a bloody sheath. 
'Twixt truce and war, such sudden change 
Was not unfrequent, nor held strange, 

In the old Border-day ; 
But yet on Branksome's towers and town, 
In peaceful merriment, sunk down 

The sun's declining ray. 

VIIL 

The blithesome signs of wassel gay 
Decayed not with the dying day ; 

* A sort of knife, or poniard. 



149 

Soon through the latticed windows tall, 
Of lofty Branksome's lordly hall, 
Divided square by shafts of stone, 
Huge flakes of ruddy lustre shone ; 
Nor less the gilded rafters rang 
With merry harp and beakers' clang ; 

And frequent, on the darkening plain, 
Loud hollo, whoop, or whistle ran, 

As bands, their stragglers to regain, 

Give the shrill watch-word of their clan ; 
And revellers, o'er their bowls, proclaim 
Douglas or Dacre's conquering name. 

IX. 

Less frequent heard, and fainter still, 
At length the various clamours died ; 

And you might hear, from Branksome hill, 
No sound but Teviot's rushing tide ; 

Save, when the changing centinel 

The challenge of his watch could tell ; 



150 

And save, where, through the dark profound, 
The clanging axe and hammer's sound 

Rung from the nether lawn ; 
For many a busy hand toiled there, 
Strong pales to shape, and beams to square, 
The lists' dread barriers to prepare, 

Against the morrow's dawn. 

X. 
Margaret from hall did soon retreat, 

Despite the Dame's reproving eye ; 
Nor marked she, as she left her seat, 

Full many a stifled sigh : 
For many a noble warrior strove 
To win the Flower of Teviot's love, 

And many a bold ally. — 
With throbbing head and anxious heart 
All in her lonely bower apart, 



151 

In broken sleep she lay : 
By times, from silken couch she rose ; 
While yet the bannered hosts repose, 

She viewed the dawning day : 
Of all the hundreds sunk to rest, 
First woke the loveliest and the best. 

XL 

She gazed upon the inner court, 

"Which in the tower's tall shadow lay; 
Where coursers' clang, and stamp, and snort, 

Had rung the live-long yesterday ; 
Now still as death ; till, stalking slow, — 

The jingling spurs announced his tread, — 
A stately warrior passed below ; 

But when he raised his plumed head — 
Blessed Mary ! can it be ? — 
Secure, as if in Ousenam bowers, 
He walks through Branksome's hostile towers, 

With fearless step and free. 



152 

She dared not sign, she dared not speak — 
Oh ! if one page's slumbers break, 

His blood the price must pay ! 
Not all the pearls Queen Mary wears, 
Not Margaret's yet more precious tears, 

Shall buy his life a day. 

XII. 
Yet was his hazard small ; for well 
You may bethink you of the spell 

Of that sly urchin Page ; 
This to his lord he did impart, 
And made him seem, by glamour art, 

A knight from Hermitage. 
Unchallenged, thus, the warder's post, 
The court, unchallenged, thus he crossed, 

For all the vassalage : 
But, O ! what magic's quaint disguise 
Could blind fair Margaret's azure eyes ! 



153 

She started from her seat ; 
While with surprise and fear she strove, 
And both could scarcely master love — 

Lord Henry's at her feet. 

XIII. 

Oft have I mused, what purpose bad 
That foul malicious urchin had 

To bring this meeting round ; 
For happy love's a heavenly sight, 
And by a vile malignant sprite 

In such no joy is found : 
And oft I've deemed, perchance he thought 
Their erring passion might have wrought 

Sorrow, and sin, and shame ; 
And death to Cranstoun's gallant Knight, 
And to the gentle Ladye bright, 

Disgrace, and loss of fame. 
But earthly spirit could not tell 
The heart of them that loved so well. 



154 

True love's the gift which God has given 
To man alone beneath the heaven. 
It is not fantasy's hot fire, 

Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly ; 
It liveth not in fierce desire, 

With dead desire it doth not die; 
It is the secret sympathy, 
The silver link, the silken tie, 
Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, 
In body and in soul can bind. — 
Now leave we Margaret and her Knight, 
To tell you of the approaching fight. 

XIV. 

Their warning blast the bugles blew, 

The pipe's shrill port # aroused each clan • 

In haste, the deadty strife to view, 
The trooping warriors eager ran : 

Thick round the lists their lances stood, 

Like blasted pines in Ettricke wood ; 

* A martial piece of music, adapted to the bagpiper 



155 

To Branksome many a look they threw, 
The combatants' approach to view, 
And bandied many a word of boast, 
About the knight each favoured most. 

XV. 
Meantime full anxious was the Dame ; 
For now arose disputed claim, 
Of who should fight for Deloraine, 
Twixt Harden and 'twixt Thirlestaine : 
They 'gan to reckon kin and rent, 
And frowning brow on brow was bent ; 
But yet not long the strife— for, lo ! 
Himself, the Knight of Deloraine, 
Strong, as it seemed, and free from pain, 
In armour sheathed from top to toe, 
Appeared, and craved the combat due. 
The Dame her charm successful knew,* 
And the fierce chiefs their claims withdrew. 

* See p. 90. Stanza XXIII. 



156 

XVI. 

When for the lists they sought the plain, 
The stately Ladye's silken rein 

Did noble Howard hold ; 
Unarmed by her side he walked, 
And much, in courteous phrase, they talked 

Of feats of arms of old. 
Costly his garb — his Flemish ruff 
Fell o'er his doublet, shaped of buff, 

With satin slashed, and lined ; 
Tawny his boot, and gold his spur, 
His cloak was all of Poland fur, 

His hose with silver twined ; 
His Bilboa blade, by Marchmen felt, 
Hung in a broad and studded belt; 
Hence, in rude phrase, the Borderers still 
Called noble Howard, Belted Will. 

XVII. 

Behind Lord Howard and the Dame, 
Fair Margaret on her palfrey came, 



157 

Whose foot-cloth swept the ground ; 
White was her wimple, and her veil, 
And her loose locks a chaplet pale 

Of whitest roses hound ; 
The lordly Angus/ by her side/ 
In courtesy to cheer her tried ; 
Without his aid, her hand in vain 
Had strove to guide her broidered rein. 
He deemed, she shuddered at the sight 
Of warriors met for mortal fight ; 
But cause of terror, all un guessed, 
Was fluttering in her gentle breast, 
When, in their chairs of crimson placed, 
The Dame and she the barriers graced. 

XVIII. 

Prize of the field, the young Baccleuch 
An English knight led forth to view ; 
Scarce rued the boy his present plight, 
So much he longed to see the fight. 

■ 



158 

Within the lists, in knightly pride, 
High Home and haughty Dacre ride ; 
Their leading staffs of steel they wield, 
As marshals of the mortal field ; 
While to each knight their care assigned 
Like vantage of the sun and wind. 
Then heralds hoarse did loud proclaim, 
In king and queen, and wardens' name, 

That none, while lasts the strife, 
Should dare, by look, or sign, or word, 
Aid to a champion to afford, 

On peril of his life ; 
And not a breath the silence broke, 
Till thus the alternate Heralds spoke : 

XIX. 

ENGLISH HERALD. 

Here standeth Richard of Musgrave, 
Good knight and true, and freely bom, 

Amends from Deloraine to crave, 
For foul despiteous scathe and scorn. 



159 

He sayeth, that William of Deloraine 
Is traitor false by Border laws ; 

This with his sword he will maintain, 
So help him God, and his good cause ! 

XX. 

SCOTTISH HERALD. 

Here stand eth William of Deloraine, 
Good knight and true, of noble strain, 
Who sayeth, that foul treason's stain, 
Since he bore arms, ne'er soiled his coat ; 
And that, so help him God above ! 
He will on Musgrave's body prove, 
He lyes most foully in his throat. 

LORD DACRE. 

Forward, brave champions, to the fight I 
Sound trumpets ! 

LORD HOME. 

" God defend the right !" 

Then, Teviot ! how thine echoes rang, 
When bugle-sound and trumpet clang 



160 

Let loose the martial foes. 
And in mid list, with shield poised high, 
And measured step and wary eye, 

The combatants did close. 

XXL 

111 would it suit your gentle ear, 

Ye lovely listeners, to hear 

How to the axe the helms did sound, 

And blood poured down from many a wound ; 

For desperate was the strife and long, 

And either warrior fierce and strong. 

But, were each dame a listening knight, 

I well could tell how warriors fight ; 

For I have seen war's lightning flashing, 

Seen the claymore with bayonet clashing, 

Seen through red blood the war-horse dashing, 

And scorned, amid the reeling strife, 

To yield a step for death or life. 



161 

XXII. 

? Tis done, 'tis done ! that fatal blow 

Has stretched him on the bloody plain ; 
He strives to rise — Brave Musgrave, no ! 

Thence never shalt thou rise again ! 
He chokes in blood — some friendly hand 
Undo the visor's barred band, 
Unfix the gorget's iron clasp, 
And give him room for life to gasp ! — 
O, bootless aid ! — haste, holy Friar, 
Haste, ere the sinner shall expire ! 
Of all his guilt let him be shriven, 
And smooth his path from earth to heaven !> 

XXIII. 

In haste the holy Friar sped ; — 
His naked foot was dyed with red, 

As through the lists he ran ; 
Unmindful of the shouts on high, 
That hailed the conqueror's victory, 

He raised the dying man ; 



Loose waved his silver beard and hair. 
As o'er him he kneeled down in prayer ; 
And still the crucifix on high 
He holds before his darkening eye ; 
And still he bends an anxious ear, 
His faultering penitence to hear ; 

Still props him from the bloody sod, 
Still, even when soul and body part, 
Pours ghostly comfort on his heart, 

And bids him trust in God ! 
Unheard he prays ; — the death-pang's o'er !- 
Richard of Musgrave breathes no more. 

XXIV. 

As if exhausted in the fight, 
Or musing o'er the piteous sight, 

The silent victor stands; 
His beaver did he not unclasp, 
Marked not the shouts, felt not the grasp 

Of gratulating hands, 



163 

When lo ! strange cries of wild surprise. 
Mingled with seeming terror, rise 

Among the Scottish bands ; 
And all, amid the thronged array, 
In panic haste gave open way 
To a half-naked ghastly man, 
Who downward from the castle ran : 
He crossed the barriers at a bound, 

And wild and hagard looked around, 
As dizzy, and in pain ; 

And all, upon the armed ground, 
Knew William of Deloraine ! 
Each ladye sprung from seat with speed ; 
Vaulted each marshall from his steed ; 

t( And who art thou," they cried, 
" Who hast this battle fought and won r 
His plumed helm was soon undone— 

" Cranstoun of Teviotside ! 
For this fair prize I've fought and won," — 
And to the Ladye led her son. 
4 



164 

XXV. 

Full oft the rescued boy she kissed, 
And often pressed him to her breast ; 
For, under all her dauntless show, 
Her heart had throbbed at every blow ; 
Yet not Lord Cranstoun deigned she greet, 
Though low he kneeled at her feet. 
Me lists not tell what words were made, 
What Douglas, Home, and Howard said — 

— For Howard was a generous foe — 
And how the clan united prayed, 

The Ladye would the feud forego, 
And deign to bless the nuptial hour 
Of Cranstoun's Lord and Teviot's Flower. 

XXVI. 

She looked to river, looked to hill, 
Thought on the Spirit's prophecy, 

Then broke her silence stern and still, — 
" Not you, but Fate, has vanquished me ; 



165 

Their influence kindly stars may shower 
On Teviot's tide and Branksome's tower, 

For pride is quelled, and love is free." 
She took fair Margaret by the hand, 
Who, breathless, trembling, scarce might stand ; 

That hand to Cranstoun's lord gave she : — 
" As I am true to thee and thine, 
Do thou be true to me and mine ! 

This clasp of love our bond shall be ; 
For this is your betrothing day, 
And all these noble lords shall stay, 

To grace it with their company ." — 

XXVII. 

All as they left the listed plain, 
Much of the story she did gain ; 
How Cranstoun fought with Deloraine, 
And of his Page, and of the Book, 
Which from the wounded knight he took ; 



166 

And how he sought her castle high, 

That morn, by help of gramarye ; 

How, in Sir William's armour dight, 

Stolen by his Page, while slept the knight, 

He took on him the single fight. 

But half his tale he left unsaid, 

And lingered till he joined the maid. — 

Cared not the Ladye to betray 

Her mystic arts in view of day ; 

But well she thought, ere midnight came, 

Of that strange Page the pride to tame, 

From his foul hands the Book to save, 

And send it back to Michael's grave. — 

Needs not to tell each tender word 

'Twixt Margaret and 'twixt Cranstoun's lord ; 

Nor how she told of former woes, 

And how her bosom fell and rose, 

While he and Musgrave bandied blows. — 

Needs not these lovers' joys to tell ; 

One day, fair maids, you'll know them well. 



167 

XXVIII. 

William of Deloraine, some chance 
Had wakened from his deathlike trance ; 

And taught that, in the listed plain, 
Another, in his arms and shield, 
Against fierce Musgrave axe did wield, 
Under the name of Deloraine. 
Hence, to the field, unarmed, he ran, 
And hence his presence scared the clan, 
Who held him for some fleeting wraith, # 
And not a man of blood and breath. 
Not much this new ally he loved, 
Yet, when he saw what hap had proved, 

He greeted him right heartilie : 
He would not waken old debate, 
For he was void of rancorous hate, 
Though rude, and scant of courtesy ; 
In raids he spilt but seldom blood, 
Unless when men at arms withstood, 

* The spectral apparition of a living person. 



168 

Or, as was meet, for deadly feud. 
He ne'er bore grudge for stalwart blow, 
Ta'en in fair fight from gallant foe : 
And so 'twas seen of him, e'en now, 

When on dead Musgrave he looked down ; 
Grief darkened on his rugged brow, 
Though half disguised with a frown ; 
And thus, while sorrow bent his head, 
His foeman's epitaph he made. 

XXIX. 

" Now, Richard Musgrave, liest thou here] 

I ween, my deadly enemy ; 
For, if I slew thy brother dear, 

Thou slewest a sister's son to me ; 
And when I lay in dungeon dark, 

Of Naworth Castle, long months three, 
Till ransomed for a thousand mark, 

Dark Musgrave, it was long of thee. 



169 

And, Musgrave, could our fight be tried, 

And thou wert now alive, as I, 
No mortal man should us divide, 

Till one, or both of us, did die : 
Yet rest thee, God ! for well I know, 
I ne'er shall find a nobler foe. 
In all the northern counties here, 
Whose word is, Snafle, spur, and spear,* 
Thou wert the best to follow gear. 
'Twas pleasure, as we looked behind, 
To see how thou the chace couldst wind, 
Cheer the dark blood-hound on his way, 
And with the bugle rouse the fray ! 
I'd give the lands of Deloraine, 
Dark Musgrave were alive again." — 

XXX. 

So mourned he, till Lord Dacre's band 
Were bowning back to Cumberland. 

* The lands, that over Ouse to Berwick forth do bear, 
Have for their blazon had, the snafle, spur, and spear. 

?oty~albion, Song xxilh 



170 

They raised brave Musgrave from the field, 
And laid him on his bloody shield ; 
On levelled lances, four and four, 
By turns, the noble burden bore. 
Before, at times, upon the gale, 
Was heard the Minstrel's plaintive wailj 
Behind, four priests, in sable stole, 
Sung requiem for the warrior's soul : 
Around, the horsemen slowly rode ; 
With trailing pikes the spearmen trod ; 
And thus the gallant knight they bore, 
Through Liddesdale, to Leven's shore ; 
Thence to Holme Coltrame's lofty nave, 
And laid him in his father's grave. 



The harp's wild notes, though hushed the song. 
The mimic march of death prolong ; 
Now seems it far, and now a-near, 
Now meets, and now eludes the ear ; 



171 

Now seems some mountain side to sweep, 
Now faintly dies in valley deep ; 
Seems now as if the Minstrel's wail, 
Now the sad requiem, loads the gale ; 
Last, o'er the warrior's closing grave, 
Rung the full choir in choral stave. 

After due pause, they bade him tell, 
Why he, who touched the harp so well, 
Should thus, with ill-rewarded toil, 
Wander a poor and thankless soil, 
When the more generous southern land 
Would well requite his skilful hand. 

The Aged Harper, howsoe'er 
His only friend, his harp, was dear, 
Liked not to hear it ranked so high 
Above his flowing poesy; 



172 

Less liked he still, that scornful jeer 
Misprized the land, he loved so dear; 
High was the sound, as thus again 
The Bard resumed his minstiel strain. 



THE 

LAY 

OF 

THE LAST MINSTREL. 



CANTO SIXTH. 



/^€. 



THE 



LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 

CANTO SIXTH 



I. 

Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said, 

This is my own, my native land ! 
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, 
As home his footsteps he hath turned, 

From wandering on a foreign strand ! 
If such there breathe, go, mark him well ; 
For him no minstrel raptures swell - y 



176 

High though his titles, proud his name, 
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim j 
Despite those titles, power, and pelf, 
The wretch, concentered all in self, 
Living, shall forfeit fair renown, 
And, doubly dying, shall go down 
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, 
Unwept, unhonoured, and imsung. 

II. 

O Caledonia ! stern and wild, 
Meet nurse for a poetic child ! 
Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, 
Land of the mountain and the flood, 
Land of my sires ! what mortal hand 
Can e'er untie the filial band, 
That knits me to thy rugged strand ! 
Still, as I view each well-known scene, 
Think what is now, and what hath been, 



177 

Seems as, to me, of all bereft, 

Sole friends thy woods and streams were left ; 

And thus I love them better still, 

Even in extremity of ill. 

By Yarrow's stream still let me stray, 

Though none should guide my feeble way; 

Still feel the breeze down Ettrieke break, 

Although it chill my withered cheek ;- 

Still lay my head by Teviot stone, 

Though there, forgotten and alone, 

The Bard may draw his parting groan. 

III. 

Not scorned like me \ to Branksome Hall 
The Minstrels came, at festive call ; 
Trooping they came, from near and far, 
The jovial priests of mirth and war; 
Alike for feast and fight prepared, 
Battle and banquet both they shared. 
Of late, before each martial clan, 
They blew their death-note in the van, 

M 



178 

But now, for every merry mate, 

Rose the portcullis' iron grate ; 

They sound the pipe, they strike the string, 

They dance, they revel, and they sing, 

Till the rude turrets shake and ring. 

IV. 

Me lists not at this tide declare 
The splendour of the spousal rite, 

How mustered in the chapel fair 

Both maid and matron, squire and knight - y 

Me lists not tell of owches rare, 

Of mantles green, and braided hair, 

And kirtles furred with miniver ; 

What plumage waved the altar round, 

How spurs, and ringing chainlets, sound ; 

And hard it were for bard to speak 

The changeful hue of Margaret's cheek ; 

That lovely hue which comes and flies, 

As awe and shame alternate rise ! 



179 

V. 

Some bards have sung, the Ladye high 
Chapel or altar came not nigh ; 
Nor durst the rites of spousal grace, 
So much she feared each holy place. 
False slanders these : — I trust right well, 
She wrought not by forbidden spell ; 
For mighty words and signs have power 
O'er sprites in planetary hour : 
Yet scarce I praise their venturous part, 
Who tamper with such dangerous art. 

But this for faithful truth I say, 
The Ladye by the altar stood ; 

Of sable velvet her array, 

And on her head a crimson hood, 
With pearls embroidered and entwined, 
Guarded with gold, with ermine lined ; 
A merlin sat upon her wrist, 
Held by a leash of silken twist. 



180 

VI. 

The spousal rites were ended soon : 
'Twas now the merry hour of noon, 
And in the lofty arched hall 
Was spread the gorgeous festival. 
Steward and squire, with heedful haste, 
Marshalled the rank of every guest ; 
Pages, with ready blade, were there, 
The mighty meal to carve and share : 
O'er capon, heron-shew, and crane, 
And princely peacock's gilded train, 
And o'er the boar-head, garnished brave, 
And cygnet from St Mary's wave ; 
O'er ptarmigan and venison, 
The priest had spoke his benison. 
Then rose the riot and the din, 
Above, beneath, without, within ! 
For, from the lofty balcony, 
Rung trumpet, shalm, and psaltery \ 



181 

Their clanging bowls old warriors quaffed, 
Loudly they spoke, and loudly laughed ; 
Whispered young knights, in tone more mild, 
To ladies fair, and ladies smiled. 
The hooded hawks, high perched on beam, 
The clamour joined with whistling scream, 
And flapped their wings, and shook their bells, 
In concert with the stag-hounds' yells. 
Round go the flasks of ruddy wine, 
From Bourdeaux, Orleans, or the Rhine ; 
Their tasks the busy sewers ply, 
And all is mirth and revelry. 

VII. 

The Goblin Page, omitting still 

No opportunity of ill, 

Strove now, while blood ran hot and high, 

To rouse debate and jealousy; 

Till Conrad, lord of Wolfenstein, 

By nature fierce, and warm with wine,, 



182 

And now in humour highly crossed, 

About some steeds his band had lost, 

High words to words succeeding still, 

Smote, with his gauntlet, stout Hunthill ; 

A hot and hardy Rutherford, 

Whom men called Dickon Draw-the-Sword. 

He took it on the Page's saye, 

Hunthill had driven these steeds away. 

Then Howard, Home, and Douglas rose, 

The kindling discord to compose : 

Stern Rutherford right little said, 

But bit his glove, and shook his head. — 

A fortnight thence, in Inglewood, 

Stout Conrad, cold, and drenched in blood, 

His bosom gored with many a wound, 

Was by a woodman's lyme-dog found ; 

Unknown the manner of his death, 

Gone was his brand, both sword and sheath ; 



'V 



183 

But ever from that time, 'twas said, 
That Dickon wore a Cologne blade. 

VIII. 

The Dwarf, who feared his master's eye 

Might his foul treachery espie, 

Now sought the castle buttery, 

Where many a yeoman, bold and free, 

Revelled as merrily and well 

As those, that sat in lordly selle. 

Watt Tinlinn, there, did frankly raise 

The pledge to Arthur Fire-the-Braes ; 

And he, as by his breeding bound, 

To Howard's merry-men sent it round. 

To quit them, on the English side, 

Red Roland Forster loudly cried, 

" A deep carouse to yon fair bride !" 

At every pledge, from vat and pail, 

Foamed forth, in floods, the nut-brown ale ; 



184 

While shout the riders every one, 
Such day of mirth ne'er cheered their clan, 
Since old Buccleuch the name did gain, 
When in the cleuch the buck was ta'en. 

IX. 

The wily Page, with vengeful thought. 
Remembered him of Tinlinn's yew, 
And swore, it should be dearly bought, 

That ever he the arrow drew. 
First, he the yeoman did molest, 
With bitter gibe and taunting jest ; 
Told, how he fled at Solway strife, 
And how Hob Armstrong cheered his wife 
Then, shunning still his powerful arm, 
At unawares he wrought him harm ; 
From trencher stole his choicest cheer, 
Dashed from his lips his can of beer, 
Then, to his knee sly creeping on, 
With bodkin pierced him to the bone : 



185 

The \enomed wound, and festering joint, 

Long after rued that bodkin's poiut. 

The startled yeoman swore and spurned, 

And board and flaggons overturned. 

Riot and clamour wild began ; 

Back to the hall the Urchin ran ; 

Took in a darkling nook his post, 

And grinned, and muttered, " Lost ! lost! lost!' 

X. 

By this, the Dame, lest further fray 
Should mar the concord of the day, 
Had bid the Minstrels tune their lay. 
And first stept forth old Albert Graeme, 
The Minstrel of that ancient name : 
Was none who struck the harp so well, 
Within the Land Debateable ; 
Well friended too, his hardy kin, 
Whoever lost, were sure to win ; 



186 

They sought the beeves, that made their broth, 
In Scotland and in England both. 
In homely guise, as nature bade, 
His simple song the Borderer said. 

XL 

ALBERT GR^ME. 

It was an English ladye bright, 

(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) 

And she would marry a Scottish knight, 
Eor Love will still be lord of all. 

Blithely they saw the rising sun, 

When he shone fair on Carlisle wall, 

But they were sad ere day was done, 
Though Love was still the lord of all. 

Her sire gave brooch and jewel fine, 

Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall ; 

Her brother gave but a flask of wine, 
For ire that Love was lord of all. 



187 

For she had lands, both meadow and lea, 
Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall, 

And he swore her death, ere he would see 
A Scottish knight the lord of all. 

XII. 

That wine she had not tasted well, 
(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall ;) 

When dead, in her true love's arms, she fell, 
For Love was still the lord of all. 

He pierced her brother to the heart, 

Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall ;- 

So perish all, would true love part, 
That Love may still be lord of all ! 

And then he took the cross divine, 

Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall, 

And died for her sake in Palestine, 
So Love was still the lord of all. 



jjF 



188 

Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove, 
(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) 

Pray for their souls, who died for love, 
For Love shall still be lord of all! 

XIIL 

As ended Albert's simple lay, 

Arose a bard of loftier port ; 
For sonnet, rhirne, and roundelay, 

Renowned in haughty Henry's court : 
There rung thy harp, unrivalled long, 
Fitztraver of the silver song. 

The gentle Surrey loved his lyre — 
Who has not heard of Surrey's fame ? 

His was the hero's soul of fire, 

And his the bard's immortal name, 
And his was love, exalted high 
By all the glow of chivalry. 



139 

XIV. 
They sought, together, climes afar, 

And oft,, within some olive grove, 
When evening came, with twinkling star, 

They sung of Surrey's absent love. 
His step the Italian peasant staid, 

And deemed, that spirits from on high, 
Round where some hermit saint was laid, 

Were breathing heavenly melody ; 
So sweet did harp and voice combine, 
To praise the name of Geraldine. 

XV. 
Fitztraver ! O what tongue may say 

The pangs thy faithful bosom knew, 
When Surrey, of the deathless lay, 

Ungrateful Tudor's sentence slew ? 
Regardless of the tyrant's frown, 
His harp called wrath and vengeance down* 



190 

He left, for Naworth's iron towers, 
Windsor's green glades, and courtly bowers, 
And, faithful to his patron's name, 
With Howard still Fitztraver came; 
Lord William's foremost favourite he, 
And chief of all his minstrelsy. 

XVI. 

FITZTRAVER. 

'Twas All-souls eve, and Surrey's heart beat high ; 

He heard the midnight-bell with anxious start, 
Which told the mystic hour, approaching nigh, 

When wise Cornelius promised, by his art, 
To shew to him the ladye of his heart, 

iVlbeit betwixt them roared the ocean grim ; 
Yet so the sage had hight to play his part, 

That he should see her form in life and limb, 
And mark, if still she loved, and still she thought of 
him. 



191 

XVII. 

Dark was the vaulted room of gramarye, 

To which the Wizard led the gallant Knight, 
Save that before a mirror, huge and high, 

A hallowed taper shed a glimmering light 
On mystic implements of magic might ; 

On cross, and character, and talisman, 
And almagest, and altar, nothing bright : 

For fitful was the lustre, pale and wan, 
As watch-light by the bed of some departing man. 

XVIII. 

But soon, within that mirror, huge and high, 

Was seen a self-emitted light to gleam ; 
And forms upon its breast the earl 'gan spy, 

Cloudy and indistinct, as feverish dream ; 
Till, slow arranging, and defined, they seem 

To form a lordly and a lofty room, 
Part lighted by a lamp with silver beam, 

Placed by a couch of Agra's silken loom, 
And part by moonshine pale, and part was hid in 
doom. 



192 

XIX. 

Fair all the pageant — but how passing fair 

The slender form, which lay on couch of Ind ! 
O'er her white bosom strayed her hazel hair, 

Pale her dear cheek, as if for love she pined ; 
All in her night-robe loose, she lay reclined, 

And, pensive, read from tablet eburnine 
Some strain, that seemed her inmost soul to find : — 

That favoured strain was Surrey's raptured line, 
That fair and lovely form, the Ladye Geraldine. 

XX. 

Slow rolled the clouds upon the lovely form, 

And swept the goodly vision all away — 
So royal envy rolled the murky storm 

O'er my beloved Master's glorious day. 
Thou jealous, ruthless tyrant ! Heaven repay 

On thee, and on thy childrens' latest line, 
The wild caprice of thy despotic sway, 

The gory bridal bed, the plundered shrine, 
The murdered Surrey's blood, the tears of Geraldine ! 






193 

XXI. 

Both Scots, and Southern chiefs, prolong 
Applauses of Fitztraver's song : 
These hated Henry's name as death, 
And those still held the ancient faith. — > 
Then, from his seat, with lofty air, 
Rose Harold, bard of brave St Clair ; 
St Clair, who, feasting high at Home, 
Had with that lord to battle come. 
Harold was born where restless seas 
Howl round the storm-swept Orcades ; 
Where erst St Clairs held princely sway 
O'er isle and islet, strait and bay ; — 
Still nods their palace to its fall, 
Thy pride and sorrow, fair Kirkwall ! — 
Thence oft he marked fierce Pentland rave, 
As if grim Odinn rode her wave ; 
And watched, the whilst, with visage pale, 
And throbbing heart, the struggling sail; 



194 

For all of wonderful and wild 
Had rapture for the lonely child. 

XXII. 

And much of wild and wonderful 
In these rude isles might Fancy cull ; 
For thither came, in times afar, 
Stern Lochlin's sons of roving war, 
The Norsemen, trained to spoil and blood, 
Skilled to prepare the raven's food; 
Kings of the main their leaders brave, 
Their barks the dragons of the wave. 
And there, in many a stormy vale, 
The Scald had told his wondrous tale; 
And many a Runic column high 
Had witnessed grim idolatry. 
And thus had Harold, in his youth, 
Learned many a Saga's rhime uncouth, — 
Of that Sea-Snake, tremendous curled, 
Whose monstrous circle girds the world ; 



195 

Of those dread Maids, whose hideous yell 

Maddens the battle's bloody swell ; 

Of chiefs, who, guided through the gloom 

By the pale death-lights of the tomb, 

Ransacked the graves of warriors old, 

Their faulchions wrenched from corpses' hold, 

Waked the deaf tomb with war's alarms, 

And bade the dead arise to arms ! 

With war and wonder all on flame, 

To Roslin's bowers young Harold came, 

Where, by sweet glen and greenwood tree, 

He learned a milder minstrelsy ; 

Yet something of the Northern spell 

Mixed with the softer numbers well. 

XXIII. 

HAROLD. 

O listen, listen, ladies gay ! 

No haughty feat of arms I tell : 
Soft is the note, and sad the lay, 

That mourns the lovely Rosabelle. 



196 

— " Moor,, moor the barge, ye gallant crew £ 
And, gentle ladye, deign to stay ! 

Rest thee in Castle Ravensheuch, 
Nor tempt the stormy firth to-day. 

ee The blackening wave is edged with white ; 

To inch # and rock the sea-mews fly ; 
The fishers have heard the Water Sprite, 

Whose screams forebode that wreck is nigh, 

" Last night the gifted Seer did view 
A wet shroud swathed round ladye gay ; 

Then stay thee, Fair, in Ravensheuch : 
Why cross the gloomy firth to-day ?" — ■ 

" 'Tis not because Lord Lindesay's heir 
To-night at Roslin leads the ball, 

But that my ladye-mother there 
Sits lonely in her castle-hall. 

* Inch, Isle. 



197 

** 'Tis not because the ring they ride, 
And Lindesay at the ring rides well, 

But that my sire the wine will chide, 
If 'tis not filled by Rosabella."— 

O'er Roslin all that dreary night 

A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam ; 

'Twas broader than the watch-fire light, 
And redder than the bright moon-beain. 

It glared on Roslin's castled rock, 
It ruddied all the copse-wood glen ; 

'Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oak, 
Aud seen from caverned Hawthornden. 

Seemed all on fire that chapel proud, 
Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffined lie ; 

Each Baron, for a sable shroud, 
Sheathed in his iron panoply. 



19$ 

Seemed all on fire within, around, 

Deep sacristy and altar's pale ; 
Shone every pillar foliage-bound, 

And glimmered all the dead men's mail. 

Blazed battlement and pinnet high, 

Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair — 

So still they blaze, when fate is nigh 
The lordly line of high St Clair. 

There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold 
Lie buried within that proud chapelle ; 

Each one the holy vault doth hold — 
But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle ! 

And each St Clair was buried there, 

With candle, with book, and with knell ; 

But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung. 
The dirge of lovely Rosabelle. 



199 

XXV. 

So sweet was Harold's piteous lay, 

Scarce marked the guests the darkened hall, 
Though, long before the sinking day, 

A wondrous shade involved them all : 
It was not eddying mist or fog, 
Drained by the sun from fen or bog ; 

Of no eclipse had sages told ; 
And yet, as it came on apace, 
Each one could scarce his neighbour's face, 

Could scarce his own stretched hand behold. 
A secret horror checked the feast, 
And chilled the soul of every guest ; 
Even the high Dame stood half aghast, 
She knew some evil on the blast; 
The elvish Page fell to the ground, 
And, shuddering, muttered, " Found! found! 
found!" 



200 

XXVI. 

Then sudden, through the darkened air 

A flash of lightning came ; 
So broad, so bright, so red the glare, 

The castle seemed on flame ; 
Glanced every rafter of the hall, 
Glanced every shield upon the wall ; 
Each trophied beam, each sculptured stone, 
Were instant seen, and instant gone ; 
Full through the guests' bedazzled band 
Resistless flashed the levin-brand, 
And filled the hall with smouldering smoke, 
As on the elvish Page it broke. 

It broke, with thunder long and loud, 

Dismayed the brave, appalled the proud, — ■ 
From sea to sea the larum rung ; 

On Berwick wall, and at Carlisle withal, 
To arms the startled warders sprung. 
When ended was the dreadful roar, 
The elvish Dwarf was seen no more ! 



201 

XXVII. 

Some heard a voice in Branksome Hall, 
Some saw a sight, not seen by all ; 
That dreadful voice was heard by some, 
Cry, with loud summons, " Gylbin, come!" 
And on the spot where burst the brand, 

Just where the Page had flung him down, 
Some saw an arm, and some a hand, 
And some the waving of a gown. 
The guests in silence prayed and shook, 
And terror dimmed each lofty look. 
But none of all the astonished train 
Was so dismayed as Deloraine ; 
His blood did freeze, his brain did burn, 
'Twas feared his mind would ne'er return; 
For he was speechless, ghastly, wan, 
Like him, of whom the story ran, 
Who spoke the spectre-hound in Man.* 
At length, by fits, he darkly told, 
With broken hint, and shuddering cold — 

* The Isle of Man.— See Note. 



202 

That he had seen, right certainly, 
A shape with amice wrapped around, 
Like a wrought Spanish baldric bound, 
Like a pilgrim from beyond the sea ; 
And knew — but how it mattered not — 
It was the wizard, Michael Scott. 

XXVIIL 

The anxious crowd, with horror pale, 
All trembling, heard the wondrous tale ; 
No sound was made, no word was spoke, 
Till noble Angus silence broke ; 

And he a solemn sacred plight 
Did to St Bride of Douglas make, 
That he a pilgrimage would take 
To Melrose Abbey, for the sake 
Of Michael's restless sprite. 
Then each, to ease his troubled breast, 
To some blessed saint his prayers addressed : 



203 

Some to St Modan made their vows, 

Some to St Mary of the Lowes, 

Some to the Holy Rood of Lisle, 

Some to our Lady of the Isle ; 

Each did his patron witness make, 

That he such pilgrimage would take, 

And Monks should sing, and bells should toll, 

All for the weal of Michael's soul. 

While vows were ta'en, and prayers were prayed, 

Tis said the noble Dame, dismayed, 

Renounced, for aye, dark magic's aid. 

XXIX. 

Nought of the bridal will I tell, 
Which after in short space befel ; 
Nor how brave sons and daughters fair 
Blessed Teviot's Flower, and Cranstoun's heir : 
After such dreadful scene, 'twere vain 
To wake the note of mirth again. 



204 

More meet it were to mark the day 
Of penitence and prayer divine, 

When pilgrim-chiefs, in sad array, 
Sought Melrose' holy shrine. 

XXX. 

With naked foot, and sackcloth vest, 
And arms enfolded on his breast, 

Did every pilgrim go ; 
The standers-by might hear uneath, 
Footstep, or voice, or high-drawn breath, 

Through all the lengthened row : 
No lordly look, nor martial stride, 
Gone was their glory, sunk their pride, 

Forgotten their renown ; 
Silent and slow, like ghosts, they glide 
To the high altar's hallowed side, 

And there they kneeled them down: 
Above the suppliant chieftains wave 
The banners of departed brave ; 



205 

Beneath the lettered stones were laid 
The ashes of their fathers dead ; 
From many a garnished niche around,, 
Stern saints, and tortured martyrs, frowned. 

XXXI. 

And slow up the dim aisle afar, 
With sable cowl and scapular, 
And snow-white stoles, in order due, 
The holy Fathers, two and two, 

In long procession came ; 
Taper, and host, and book they bare, 
And holy banner, flourished fair 

With the Redeemer's name : 
Above the prostrate pilgrim band 
The mitred Abbot stretched his hand, 

And blessed them as they kneeled ; 
With holy cross he signed them all, 
And prayed they might be sage in hall, 

And fortunate in field. 



206 

Then mass was sung, and prayers were said, 

And solemn requiem for the dead ; 

And bells tolled out their mighty peal, 

For the departed spirit's weal ; 

And ever in the office close 

The hymn of intercession rose ; 

And far the echoing aisles prolong 

The awful burthen of the song, — 
Dies irm, dies illa, 
solvet s^clum in favilla ; 
While the pealing organ rung ; 

Were it meet with sacred strain 

To close my lay, so light and vain, 
Thus the holy Fathers sung. 

XXXII. 

HYMN FOR THE DEAD. 

That day of wrath, that dreadful day, 
When heaven and earth shall pass away, 
What power shall be the sinner's stay ? 
How shall he meet that dreadful day ? 



'iO? 

When, shrivelling like a parched scroll, 
The flaming heavens together roll ; 
When louder yet, and yet more dread, 
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead; 

O ! on that day, that wrathful day, 
When man to judgment wakes from clay, 
Be Thou the trembling sinner's stay, 
Though heaven and earth shall pass away ! 



Hushed is the harp — the Minstrel gone. 

And did he wander forth alone ? 

Alone, in indigence and age, 

To linger out his pilgrimage ? 

No : — close beneath proud Newark's tower, 

Arose the Minstrel's lowly bower ; 

A simple hut ; but there was seen 

The little garden, hedged with green, 

The cheerful hearth, and lattice clean. 



£08 

There sheltered wanderers,, by the blaze, 
Oft heard the tale of other days ; 
For much he loved to ope his door, 
And give the aid he begged before. 
So passed the winter's day ; but still, 
When summer smiled on sweet Bowhill, 
And July's eve, with balmy breath, 
Waved the blue-bells on Newark heath ; 
When throstles sung in Hare-head shaw, 
And corn was green on Carterhaugh, 
And flourished, broad, Blackandro's oak, 
The aged Harper's soul awoke ! 
Then would he sing achievements high, 
And circumstance of chivalry, 
Till the rapt traveller would stay, 
Forgetful of the closing day ; 
And noble youths, the strain to hear, 
Forsook the hunting of the deer ; 
And Yarrow, as he rolled along, 
Bore burden to the Minstrel's song. 






NOTES 



NOTES 

ON 

CANTO I. 



The feast was over in Branksome tower. — St. I, p. 17. 
In the reign of James I. Sir William Scott, of Buecleucb, 
chief of the clan bearing that name, exchanged, with Sir Tho- 
mas Inglis of Manor, the estate of Murdiestone, in Lanark- 
shire, for one half of the barony of Branksome, or Branx- 
holm, * lying upon the Teviot, about three miles above 
Hawick. He was probably induced to this transaction from 
the vicinity of Branksome to the extensive domain which he 
possessed in Ettricke forest and in Teviotdale. In the former 
district he held by occupancy the estate of Buccleuch, f and 
much of the forest land on the river Ettricke. In Teviotdale, 
he enjoyed the barony of Eckford, by a grant from Robert II. 

* Branxholm is the proper name of the barony ; but Branksome 
has been adopted, as suitable to the pronunciation, and more pro- 
per for poetry. 

t There are no vestiges of any building at Buccleuch, except 



S12 



to his ancestor, Walter Scott of Kirkurd, for the apprehending 
of Gilbert Ridderford, confirmed by Robert III., 3d May, 
1424. Tradition imputes the exchange betwixt Scott and In- 
glis to a conversation, in which the latter, a man, it would ap- 
pear, of a mild and forbearing nature, complained much of 
the injuries which he was exposed to from the English border- 
ers, who frequently plundered his lands of Branksome. Sir 
William Scott instantly offered him the estate of Murdiestone, 
in exchange for that which was subject to such egregious in- 
convenience. When the bargain was completed, he drily re- 
marked, that the cattle in Cumberland were as good as those 
of Teviotdale ; and proceeded to commence a system of repri- 
sals upon the English, which was regularly pursued by his suc- 
cessors. In the next reign, James II. granted to Sir Walter 
Scott of Branksome, and to Sir David, his son, the remaining 
half of the barony of Branksome, to be held in blanch for the 
payment of a red rose. The cause assigned for the grant is, 
their brave and faithful exertions in favour of the king against 
the house of Douglas, with whom James had been recently 
tugging for the throne of Scotland. This charter is dated the 



the site of a chapel, where, according to a tradition current in the 
time of Scott of Satchells, many of the ancient barons of Buc- 
cleuch lie buried. There is also said to have been a mill near 
this solitary spot ; an extraordinary circumstance, as little or no 
corn grows within several miles of Buccleuch. Satchells says it 
was used to grind corn for the hounds of the chieftain. 



213 



2d February, 1443 ; and, in the same month, part of the ba- 
rony of Langholm, and many lands in Lanarkshire, were con- 
ferred upon Sir Walter and his son by the same monarch. 

After the period of the exchange with Sir Thomas Inglis, 
Branksome became the principal seat of the Buccleuch family. 
The castle was enlarged and strengthened by Sir David Scott, 
the grandson of Sir William, its first possessor. But, in 1570-1, 
the vengeance of Elizabeth, provoked by the inroads of Buc- 
cleuch, and his attachment to the cause of Queen Mary, de- 
stroyed the castle, and laid waste the lands of Branksome. In 
the same year the castle was repaired and enlarged by Sir Wal- 
ter Scott, its brave possessor ; but the work was not completed 
until after his death, in 1574, when the widow finished the 
building. This appears from the following inscriptions. Around 
a stone, bearing the arms of Scott of Buccleuch, appears the 
following legend : " Sir W. Scott, of Branxheim Knyt Yoe 
of Sir William Scott of Kirkurd Knyt began ye work 
upon ye 24 of Marche 1571 zeir quha departit at God's 
pleisour ye 17 April 1574." On a similar copartment are 
sculptured the arms of Douglas, with this inscription, " Dame 
Margaret Douglas his spous completit the forsaid 
work in October 1576." Over an arched door is inscribed 
the following moral verse : 

Int. varld. is. nocht. nature, hes. vrought. yat. sal. 

LEST. AY. 

ti1arfore. serve. god. keip. veil. ye. rod. ihy s fame. sae. 

nocht. dekay. 
Sir Valter Scot of Branxholm Knight. Margaret Dou- 
glas 1571. 



fl4 

Branksorae Castle continued to be the principal seat of the 
Buccleuch family, while security was any object in their choice 
of a mansion. It has been the residence of the commissioners 
or chamberlains of the family. From the various alterations 
which the building has undergone, it is not only greatly restrict- 
ed in its dimensions, but retains little of the castellated form, 
if we except one square tower of massy thickness, being the 
only part of the original building which now remains. The 
whole forms a handsome modern residence, and is now inha- 
bited by my respected friend, Adam Ogiivy, Esq. of Hartwood- 
myres, commissioner of his Grace the Duke of Buccleuch. 

The extent of the ancient edifice can still be traced by some 
vestiges of its foundation, and its strength is obvious from the 
situation, on a deep bank surrounded by the Teviot, and flank- 
ed by a deep ravine, formed by a precipitous brook. It was 
anciently surrounded by wood, as appears from the survey of 
Roxburghshire, made for Pont's Atlas, and preserved in the 
Advocates' Library. This wood was cut about fifty years ago, 
but is now replaced by the thriving plantations which have 
been formed by the noble proprietor, for miles around the an- 
cient mansion of his forefathers; 

Nine and twenty knights of fame 

Hung their shields in Branksome Hall. — St. III. p. 18. 
The ancient barons of Buccleuch, both from feudal splen- 
dour, and from their frontier situation, retained in their house- 



215 



hold, at Branksome, a number of gentlemen of their own 
name, who held lands from their chief, for the military service 
of watching aud warding his castle. Satchells tells us, in his 
doggrel poetry, 



No baron was better served in Britain ; 

The barons of Buckleugh they kept their call, 

Four and twenty gentlemen in their hall, 

All being of his name and kin ; 

Each two had a servant to wait upon them ; 

Before supper and dinner, most renowned, 

The bells rung and the trumpets sowned j 

And more than that, I do confess, 

They kept four and twenty pensioners. 

Think not I lie, nor do me blame, 

For the pensioners I can all name : 

There's men alive, elder than I, 

They know if I speak truth, or lie ; 

Every pensioner a room * did gain, 

For service done aud to be done ; 

This I'll let the reader understand, 

The name both of the men and land, 

Which the}^ possessed, it is of truth, 

Both from the lairds and lords of Buckleugh. 



Accordingly, dismounting from his Pegasus, Satchells gives 
us, in prose, the names of twenty-four gentlemen, younger 
brothers of ancient families, who were pensioners to the house 
of Buccleuch, and describes the lands which each possessed for 
his border service. In time of war with England, the garrison 

* Room, portion of land. 



%li6 

was doubtless augmented. Satchells adds, " These twenty- 
three pensioners, all of his own name of Scott, and Walter 
Gladstanes of Whitelavv, a near cousin of my Lord's, as afore- 
said, were ready on all occasions, when his honour pleased 
cause to advertise them. It is known to many of the country 
better than it is to me, that the rent of these lands, which the 
lairds and lords of Buccleuch did freely bestow upon their 
friends, will amount to above twelve or fourteen thousand 
merks a-year." — History of the name of Scot, p. 45. An im- 
mense sum in those times. 

And with Jedwood-axe at saddle-bow. — St. V. p. 19. 
u Of a truth," says Froissart, " the Scottish cannot boast 
great skill with the bow, but rather bear axes, with which, in 
time of need, they give heavy strokes." The Jedwood axe was 
a sort of partizan, used by horsemen, as appears from the arms 
of Jedburgh, which bear a cavalier mounted, and armed with 
this weapon. It is also called a Jedwood or Jeddart staff. 

They watch against Southern force and guile. 

Lest Scroope, or Howard, or Percy's powers, 

Threaten Branksome's lordly towers, 

From Warkworth, or Naworth, or merry Carlisle. ' 

St. VI. p. 20. 

Branksome Castle was continually exposed to the attacks of 

the English, both from its situation and the restless military 

disposition of its inhabitants, who were seldom on good terms 

4 



217 



with their neighbours. The following letter from the Earl of 
Northumberland to Henry VIII. in 1533, gives an account of 
a successful inroad of the English, in which the country was 
plundered up to, the gates of the castle, although the invaders 
failed in their principal object, which was, to kill, or make pri- 
soner, the laird of Buccleuch. It occurs in the Cotton MS. 
Calig.B. VIII. f. 222. 

" Pleaseth yt your most gracious highnes to be aduertised, 
that my comptroller with Raynald Carnaby, desyred licence of 
me to invade the realme of Scotland, for the annoysaunce of 
your highnes enemys, where they thought best exploit by 
theyme might be done, and to haue to concur withe theyme 
the inhabitants of Northumberland, suche as was towards me 
according to theyre assembly, and as by theyre discrecions 
vppone the same they shulde thinke most convenient ; and soo 
they dyde mete vppon Monday, before nyght, being the iii day 
of this instant monethe, at Wawhope? uppon northe Tyne wa- 
ter, above Tyndaill, where they were to the number of xv c 
men, and soo invadet Scotland, at the hour of viii of the clok 
at nyght, at a place called Whele Causay; and before xiof the 
clok dyd send forth a forrey of Tyndaill and Ryddisdail, and 
laide all the resydewe in a bushment, and actyvely dyd set 
vpon a towne called Branxholnl, where the lord of Buclough 
d welly the, and purpesed theymeselves with a trayne for hym 
lyke to his accustommed manner, in rysynge to all frayes; 
albeit, that knyght he was not at home, and soo they brynt 
the said Branxholm, and other townes, as to say Whichestre, 



218 



Whichestre-helme, and Whelley, and haid ordered theyrae- 
self soo, that sundry of the said Lord Buclough's servants, who 
dyd issue fourthe of his gates, was takyn prisoners. They dyd 
not leve one house, one stak of corne, nor one shyef, without 
the gate of the said Lord Buclough vnbrynt; and thus scry- 
maged and frayed, supposing the Lord of Buclough to be 
within iii or iiii rayles to have trayned him to the bushment; 
and soo in the breyking of the day dyd the forrey and the 
bushment mete, and reculed homeward, making theyr way 
westward from they re invasion to be over Lyddersdaill, as in- 
tending yf the fray frome theyre furst entry by the Scotts 
waiches, or otherwyse by warnyng shulde haue bene gyven to 
Gedworth and the countrey of Scotland theyreabouts of theyre 
invasion ; whiche Gedworth is from the Wheles Causay, vi 
myles, that thereby the Scots shulde have comen further vnto 
theyme, and more owte of ordre ; and soo vpon sundry good 
consideracons, before they entered Lyddersdaill, as well ac- 
compting the inhabitants of the same to be towards your high- 
ness, and to enforce theyme the more therby, as alsoo too put 
an occasion of suspect to the kinge of Scotts and his counsaill, 
to be taken anenst theyme, amonges theymeselves, maid pro- 
clamacions commaunding vpon payne of dethe, assurance to 
be for the said inhabitants of Lyddersdaill, without any pre- 
judice or hurt to be done by any Inglysman vnto theyme, and 
soo in good ordre abowte the how re of ten of the clok before 
none, vppone Tewisday, dyd pas through the said Lyddersdaill, 
when dyd come diverse of the said inhabitants there to my 



219 



servauntes, under the said assurance, efferring theyraeselfs with 
any service they couthe make ; and thus, thanks be to Godde, 
your highnes' subjects abowte the howre of xii of the clok at 
none the same day, came into this youre highness realme, 
bringing wt theyme above xl Scottsmen prisoners, one of 
they me named Scot, of the surname and kyn of the said Lord 
of Buclough, and of his howsehold ; they brought alsoo ccc 
nowte, and above lx horse and mares, keping in savetie frome 
losse or hurte all your said highnes subjects. There was alsoo 
a towne called Newbyggins, by diverse fotmen of Tyndaill 
and Ryddesdaill takyn vp of the night, and spoyled, when 
was slayne ii Scottsmen of the said towne, and many Scotts 
there hurte ; your highnes. subjects was xiiii myles within the 
grounde of Scotland, and is frome my house at Werkworthe, 
above lx miles of the most evill passage, where gi-eat snawes 
dothe lye ; heretofore the same townes nowe brynt haith not 
at any tyme in the mynd of man in any warrs been enterprised 
unto nowe ; your subjects were therto more encouraged for the 
better advancement of your highnes service, the said Lord of 
Buclough beyng always a mortall enemy to this your graces 
realme, and he dyd say within xiiii days before, he woulde see 
who durst lye near hym, wt many other cruell words, the 
knowledge whereof was certaynly haid to my said servaunts, 
before theyre enterprice maid vppon him ; most humbly be- 
seeching your majesty that youre highnes thanks may concur 
vnto theyme, whose names be here inclosed, and to have in 
your most gracious memory, the paynfull and diligent service 



220 



of my pore servaunte Wharton, and thus, as I am most boun- 

den, shall dispose wt them that be vnder me f 

annoysaunce of your highnes enemys." In resentment of this 
foray, Buccleuch, with other border chiefs, assembled an army 
of 3000, with which they penetrated into Northumberland, and 
laid waste the country as far as the banks of Bramish. They 
baffled, or defeated, the English forces opposed to them, and 
returned loaded with prey. — Pinkerton's History, Vol. II. 
p. 318. 

Bards long shall tell, 
How Loral Walter fell— St. VII. p. 21. 
Sir Walter Scott of Buccleuch succeeded to his grandfather, 
Sir David, in 1492. He was a brave and powerful baron, and 
warden of the west marches of Scotland. His death was the 
consequence of a feud betwixt the Scotts and Kerrs, the histo- 
ry of which is necessary, to explain repeated allusions in the 
romance. 

In the year 1526, in the words of Piscottie, " The Earl of 
Angus, and the rest of the Douglasses, ruled all which they 
liked, and no man durst say the contrary; wherefore the king 
(James V. then a minor) was heavily displeased, and would 
fain have been out of their hands, if he might by any way : 
And to that effect wrote a quiet and secret letter with his own 
hand, and sent it to the laird of Buccleuch, beseeching him 
that he would come with his kin and friends, and all the force 
that he might be, and meet him at Melross, at his home-pas- 



221 



sing, and there to take him out of the Douglasses hands, and 
to put him to liberty, to use himself among the lave (rest) of 
his lords, as he thinks expedient. 

" This letter was quietly directed, and sent by one of the 
king's own secret servants, which was received very thankful- 
ly by the laird of Buckleuch, who was very glad thereof, to be 
put to such charges and familiarity with this prince, and did 
great diligence to perform the king's writing, and to bring the 
matter to pass as the king desired : And to that effect conve- 
ned all his kin and friends, and all that would do for him, to 
ride with him to Melross, when he knew of the king's home- 
coming. And so he brought with him six hundred spears, of 
Liddesdale, and Annandale, and countrymen, and clans there- 
about, and held themselves quiet while that the king returned 
out of Jedburgh, and came to Melross, to remain there all that 
night. 

. " But when the Lord Hume, Cessfoord, and Fer.uyhirst (the 
chiefs of the clan of Kerr), took their leave of the king, and 
returned home, then appeared the Lord of Buckleuch in sight, 
and his company with him, in an arrayed battle, intending to 
have fulfilled the king's petition, and therefore came stoutly 
forward on the back side of Haliden hill. By that the Earl of 
Angus, with George Douglas, his brother, and sundry other 
of his friends, seeing this army coming, they marvelled what 
the matter meant; while at the last they knew the laird of 
Buccleuch, with a certain company of the thieves of Annan- 
dale. With him they were less affeared, and made them man- 



%9/i 



fully to the field contrary them, and said to the king in this 
manner, ■ Sir, yon is Buckleuch, and thieves of Annandale 
with him, to unbeset your Grace from the gate {i. e. interrupt 
your passage). I vow to God they shall either fight or flee ; 
and ye shall tarry here on this know, and my brother George 
with you, with any other company you please; and 1 shall 
pass, and put yon thieves off the ground, and rid the gate unto 
your Grace, or else die for it." The king tarried still, as was 
devised; and George Douglas with him, and sundry other 
lords, such as the Earl of Lennox and the Lord Erskine, and 
some of the king's own servants; but all the lave (rest) past 
with the Earl of Angus to the field against the laird of Buc- 
cleuch, who joyned and countered cruelly both the said par- 
ties in the field of Darnelinver, f either against other, with 
uncertain victory. But at the last, the Lord Hume, hearing 
word of that matter how it stood, returned again to the king in 
all possible haste, with him the lairds of Cessfoord and Fair- 
nyhirst, to the number of fourscore spears, and set freshly on 
the lap and wing of the laird of Buccleuch's field, and shortly 
bare them backward to the ground; which caused the laird of 
Buccleuch, and the rest of his friends, to go back and flee, 
whom they followed and chased ; and especially the lairds of 
Cessfoord andFairnihirst followed furiouslie, till at the foot of 
a path the laird of Cessfoord was slain by the stroke of a spear 
by an Elliot, who was then servant to the laird of Buccleuch. 



f Darmvick, near Melrose. The place of conflict is still called 
Skinner's Field, from a corruption of Skirmish Field. 



223 



But when the laird of Cessfoord was slain, the chase ceased. 
The Earl of Angus returned again with great merriness and 
victory, and thanked God that he saved him from that chance, 
and passed with the king to Melross, where they remained all 
that night. On the morn they past to Edinburgh with the king, 
who was very sad and dolorous of the slaughter of the laird of 
Cessfoord, and many other gentlemen and yeomen slain by the 
laird of Buccleuch, containing the number of fourscore and fif- 
teen, which died in defence of the king, and at the command 
of his writing." 

I am not the first who has attempted to celebrate in verse 
the renown of this ancient baron, and his hazardous attempt to 
procure his sovereign's freedom. In a Scottish Latin poet we 
find the following verses : — 

Valterius Scottts Balclttchius. 

Egregio suscepto facinore liberate Regis, ac aliis rebus gestis 
clarus sub Jacobo V. A?. Christi, 1526. 

Intentata aliis, nullique audita priorum 

Audet, nee pavidum raorsve, metusve quatit, 
Libertatem aliis soliti transcribere Beges : 

Subreptam hanc Regi restituisse paras. 
Si vincis, quanta 6 succedunt praemia dextra3, 

Sin victus, falsas spes jace, pone animam. 
Hostica vis nocuit : stant altse robora mentis 

Atque decus. Vincet, Rege probante., fides. 
Insita queis animis virtus, quosque acrior ardor? 

Obsidet, obscuris nox premat an tenebris ? 

Heroes ex omni Historia Scotica lectissimi, Auctore Johan. Jon- 
stonio Abredonense Scoto, 1603. 



£24 

In consequence of the battle of Melrose, there ensued a 
deadly feud betwixt the names of Scott and Kerr, which, in 
spite of all means used to bring about an agreement, raged for 
many years upon the Borders. Buccleuch was imprisoned, and 
his estates forfeited, in the year 1535, for levying war against 
the Kerrs, and restored by act of Parliament, dated 15 March, 
1542, during the regency of Mary of Lorraine. But the most 
signal act of violence, to which this quarrel gave rise, was, the 
murder of Sir Walter himself, who was slain by the Kerrs in 
the streets of Edinburgh, in 1552. This is the event alluded 
to in Stanza VII. ; and the poem is supposed to open shortly 
after it had taken place. 

No ! vainly to each holy shrine, 

In mutual pilgrimage, they drew. — St. VIII. p. 21. 

Among other expedients resorted to for staunching the feud 
betwixt the Scotts and the Kerrs, there was a bond executed, 
in 1529, between the heads of each clan, binding themselves 
to perform reciprocally the four principal pilgrimages of Scot- 
land, for the benefit of the souls of those of the opposite name 
who had fallen in the quarrel. This indenture is printed in 
the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, Vol. I. But either it 
never took effect, or else the feud was renewed shortly after- 
ward. 

Such pactions were not uncommon in feudal times ; and, as 
might be expected, they were often, as in the present case, 
void of the effect desired. When Sir Walter Mauny, the re- 



225 



nowned follower of Edward III., had taken the town of Ryoll, 
in Gascony, he remembered to have heard that his father lay 
there buried, and offered a hundred crowns to any who could 
show him his grave. A very old man appeared before Sir 
Walter, and informed him of the manner of his father's death, 
and the place of his sepulture. It seems the Lord of Mauny 
had, at a great tournament, unhorsed, and wounded to the 
death, a Gascon knight, of the house of Mirepoix, whose kins- 
man was bishop of Cambray. For this deed he was held at 
feud by the relations of the knight, until he agreed to under- 
take a pilgrimage to the shrine of St James of Compostella, 
for the benefit of the soul of the deceased. But as he re- 
turned through the town of Ryoll, after accomplishment of his 
vow, he was beset, and treacherously slain, by the kindred of 
the knight whom he had killed. Sir Walter, guided by the 
old man, visited the lowly tomb of his father; and, having 
read the inscription, which was in Latin, he caused the body 
to he raised, and transported to his native city of Valenciennes, 
where masses were, in the days of Froissart, duly said for the 
soul or he unfortunate pilgrim. — Crojiyde of Froissart, 
Vol. I. p. 123. 

While Cesford owns the rule of Car. — St. VIII. p. 22. 
The family of Ker, Kerr, or Car,* was very powerful on the 

* The name is spelled differently by the various families who 
bear it. Car is selected, not as the most correct, but as the most 
poetical reading. 

P 



^.^" 



226 

Border. Fynes Morrison remarks, in his Travels, that their 
influence extended from the village of Preston-Grange, in Lo- 
thian, to the limits of England. Cessford Castle, the ancient 
baronial residence of the family, is situated near the village of 
Morebattle, within two or three miles of the Cheviot Hills. — 
It has been a place of great strength and consequence, but 
is now ruinous. Tradition affirms, that it was founded by Hal- 
bert, or Habby Kerr, a gigantic warrior, concerning whom 
many stories are current in Roxburghshire. The Duke of 
Roxburghe represents Ker of Cessford. A distinct and power- 
ful branch of the same name own the Marquis of Lothian as 
their chief: Hence the distinction betwixt Kerrs of Cessford 
and Fairnihirst. 

Before Lord Cranstoun she should wed. — St. X. p. 23. 
The Cranstouns, Lord Cranstoun, are an ancient Border fa- 
mily, whose chief seat was at Crailing, in Teviotdale. They 
were at this time at feud with the clan of Scot ; for it appears 
that the lady of Buccleuch, in 1557, beset the laird of Cran- 
stoun, seeking his life. Nevertheless, the same Cranstoun, 
or perhaps his son, was married to a daughter of the same 
lady. 

Of Bethuneh line of Picardie. — St. XT. p. 24. 
The Bethunes were of French origin, and derived their 
name from a small town in Artois. There were several dis- 
tinguished families of the Bethunes in the neighbouring pro- 



227 

vince of Picardie ; they numbered among their descendants 
the celebrated Due de Sully ; and the name was accounted 
among the most noble in France, while aught noble remained 
in that country. The family of Bethune, or Beatoun, in Fife, 
produced three learned and dignified prelates ; namely, Car- 
dinal Beaton, and two successive archbishops of Glasgow, all 
of whom flourished about the date of the romance. Of this 
family was descended Dame Janet Beaton, Lady Buccleuch, 
widow of Sir Walter Scott of Branksome. She was a woman 
of masculine spirit, as appeared from her riding at the head 
of her son's clan, after her husband's murder. She also pos- 
sessed the hereditary abilities of her family in such a degree, 
that the superstition of the vulgar imputed them to superna- 
tural knowledge. With this was mingled, by faction, the foul 
accusation, of her having influenced Queen Mary to the murder 
of her husband. One of the placards, preserved in Buchanan's 
Detection, accuses of Darnley's murder " the Erie Bothwell, 
Mr James Balfour, the persoun of Fliske Mr David Chal- 
mers, black Mr John Spens, wha was principal deviser of the 
murder; and the Quene, assenting thairto, throw the persua- 
sioun of the Erie Bothwell, and the witchcraft of Lady Buck- 
Uuchr 

He learned the art, that none may name, 
In Padua, far beyond the sea. — St. XI. p. 24. 
Padua was long supposed, by the Scottish peasants, to be the 
principal school of necromancy. The Earl of Gowrie, slain at 



228 



Perth in 1600, pretended, during his studies in Italy, to have 
acquired some knowledge of the cabala, by which he said he 
could charm snakes, and work other miracles ; and, in particu- 
lar, could produce children without the intercourse of the sexes. 
— See the examination of Wemyss of Bogie before the Privy 
Council, concerning Gowrie's conspiracy. 

His form no darkening shadow traced 
Upon the sunny wall. — St. XI. p. 24. 
The shadow of a necromancer is independent of the sun.— 
Glyeas informs us, that Simon Magus caused his shadow to go 
before him, making people believe it was an attendant spi- 
rit. — Heywood's Hierarchie, p. 475. The vulgar conceive, 
that when a class of students have made a certain progress in 
their mystic studies, they are obliged to run through a subter- 
raneous hall, where the devil literally catches the hindmost in 
the race, unless he crosses the hall so speedily, that the arch- 
enemy can only apprehend his shadow. In the latter case, the 
person of the sage never after throws any shade ; and those, 
who have thus lost their shadow, always prove the best magi- 



The viewless forms of air. — St. XII. p. 24. 
The Scottish vulgar, without having any very defined no- 
tion of their attributes, believe in the existence of an interme- 
diate class of spirits residing in the air, or in the waters; to 
whose agency they ascribe floods, storms, and all such pheno- 



229 



mena as their own philosophy cannot readily explain. They 
are supposed to interfere in the affairs of mortals, sometimes 
with a malevolent purpose, and sometimes with milder views. 
It is said, for example, that a gallant Baron, having returned 
from the Holy Land to his castle of Drummelziar, found his 
fair lady nursing a healthy child, whose birth did not by any 
means correspond to the date of his departure. Such an oc- 
currence, to the credit of the dames of the crusaders be it spo- 
ken, was so rare, that it required a miraculous solution. The 
lady, therefore, was believed, when she averred confidently, 
that the Spirit of -the Tweed had issued from the river while 
she was walking upon its bank, and compelled her to submit 
to his embraces ; and the name of Tweedie was bestowed up- 
on the child, who afterwards became Baron of Drummelziar, 
and chief of a powerful clan. To those spirits were also ascrib- 
ed, in Scotland, the 

—"Airy tongues, that syllable men's names 
On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses." 

When the workmen were engaged in erecting the ancient 
church of Old Deer, in Aberdeenshire, upon a small hill called 
Bissau, they were surprised to find that the work Was impeded 
jjy supernatural obstacles. At length, the Spirit of the River 
was heard to say, 

It is not here, it is not here, 

That ye shall build the church of Deer j 



$30 



But on Taptillery, 

Where many a corpse shall lie. 



The site of the edifice was accordingly transferred to Taptil- 
lery, an eminence at some distance from the place where the 
building had been commenced. — Macfarlane's MSS. I 
mention these popular fables, because the introduction of the 
River and Mountain Spirits may not, at first sight, seem to ac- 
cord with the general tone of the romance, and the supersti- 
tions of the country where the scene is laid. 

A fancied moss-trooper, &c. — St. XIX. p. 29. 

This was the usual appellation of the marauders upon the 
Borders ; a profession diligently pursued by the inhabitants on 
both sides, and by none more actively and successfully than 
by Buccleuch's clan. Long after the union of the crowns, the 
moss-troopers, although sunk in reputation, and no longer en- 
joying the pretext of national hostility, continued to pursue 
their calling. 

Fuller includes, among the wonders of Cumberland, ' 'The 
Moss-troopers; so strange is the condition of their living, if 
considered in their Original, Increase, Height, Decay, and 
Huine. 

1. " Original. I conceive them the same called Borderers 
in Mr Cambden; and characterized by him to be, a wild and 
warlike people. They are called Moss-troopers, because dwel- 
ling in the mosses, and riding in troops together. They dwell 



231 



fa the bounds, or meeting, of the two kingdoms, but obey the 
laws of neither. They come to church as seldom as the 29th 
of February comes into the kalendar. 

2. " Increase. When England and Scotland were united in 
Great Britain, they that formerly lived by hostile incursions, 
betook themselves to the robbing of their neighbours. Their 
sons are free of the trade by their fathers' copy. They are 
like to Job, not in piety and patience, but in sudden plenty 
and poverty ; sometimes having flocks and herds in the morn- 
ing, none at night, and perchance many again next day. They 
may give for their mottoe, vivitur ex rapto, stealing from 
their honest neighbours what they sometimes require. They 
are a nest of hornets : strike one, and stir all of them about 
your ears. Indeed,, if they promise safely to conduct a tra- 
veller, they will perform it with the fidelity of a Turkish ja- 
nizary ; otherwise, woe be to him that falleth into their quar- 
ters I 

3* " Height. Amounting, forty years since, to some thou- 
sands. These compelled the vicenage to purchase their secu- 
rity, by paying a constant rent to them. When in their great- 
est height, they had two great enemies,— the Laws of the Land, 
and the Lord William Howard of Naworth. He sent many of 
them to Carlisle, to that place where the officer doth always 
his work by day light. Yet these Moss-troopers, if possibly 
they could procure the pardon for a condemned person of 
their company, would advance great sums out of their com- 



232 



mon stock, who, in such a case, cast in their lots amongst them* 
setves, and all have one purse. 

4. " Decay. Caused by the wisdom, valour, and diligence, of 
the Right Honourable Charles Lord Howard, Earl of Carlisle, 
who routed these English tories with his regiment. His seve- 
rity unto them will not only be excused, but commended, by 
the judicious, who consider how our great lawyer doth describe 
such persons, who are solemnly outlawed. Bracton, Lib. 8. 
tract. 2. cap. 11. — ' Ex tunc gerunt caput lupinum, it a quod 
sine judiciali inquisitione rite pereant, et secum suum judicium 
portent ; et merito sive lege pereunt, qui secundum legem vivere 
recusaruntJ — - Thenceforward (after that they are outlawed) 
they wear a woolf 's head, so that they lawfully may be de- 
stroyed, without any judicial inquisition, as who carry their 
own condemnation about them, and deservedly die without 
law, because they refused to live according to law/ 

5. " Ruine. Such was the success of this worthy lord's seve- 
rity, that he made a thorough reformation among them ; and, 
the ringleaders being destroyed, the rest are reduced to legall 
obedience, and so, I trust, will continue/'— Fuller's Worthies 
of England, p. 216. 

The last public mention of moss-troopers occurs during the 
civil wars of the 17th century, when many ordinances of par- 
liament were directed against them. 

* 



•NT ' I 



£33 



How the brave boy, in future war. 
Should tame the Unicorn's pride, 

Exalt the Crescent and tne Star. — St. XIX. p. 29. 
The arms of the Kerrs of Cessford were, Vert on a chive- 
ron, betwixt three unicorns' heads erased argent, three mollets 
sable; crest, an unicorn's head erased proper. The Scotts of 
Euccleuch bore, Or on a bend azure ; a star of six points be- 
twixt two crescents of the first. 

William of Deloraine. — St. XX. p. 30. 
The lands of Deloraine are joined to those of Buccleuch, 
in Ettricke Forest. They were immemorially possessed by 
the Buccleuch family, under the strong title of occupancy, al- 
though no charter was obtained from the crown until 1545. — 
Like other possessions, the lands of Deloraine were occasion- 
ally granted by them to vassals, or kinsmen, for Border-ser- 
vice. Satchells mentions, among the twenty-four gentlemen 
pensioners of the family, " William Scott, commonly called 
Cut-at-the-Black, who had the lands of Nether Deloraine for 
his service." And again, " This William of Deloraine, com- 
monly called Cut-at-the-Black, was a brother of the ancient 
house of Haining, which house of Haining is descended from 
the ancient house of Hassendean." The lands of Deloraine 
now give an Earl's title to the descendant of Henry, the se- 
cond surviving son of the Duchess of Buccleuch and Mon- 
mouth. I have endeavoured to give William of Deloraine the 
attributes which characterised the Borderers of his day ; for 



234 

which I can only plead Froissart's apology, that " it behoveth, 
in a lynage, some to be folyshe and outrageous, to maynteyne 
and sustayne the peasable." As a contrast to my Marchman, 
I beg leave to transcribe, from the same author, the speech 
of Amergot Marcell, a captain of the Adventurous Compa- 
nions, a robber, and a pillager of the country of Auvergne, 
who had been bribed to sell his strong-holds, and to assume a 
more honourable military life under the banners of the Earl of 
Armagnac. But " when he remembered alle this, he was sor- 
rowful ; his tresour he thought he Wolde not mynysshe; he was 
wonte dayly to serche for newe pyllages, wherbye encresed 
his profyte, and then he savve that alle was closed fro' hvm. 
Than he sayde and imagyned, that to pvll and to robbe (all 
thynge considered) was a good lyfe, and so repented hym of 
his good doing. On a tyme, he said to his old coinpanyons, 
i Sirs, there is no sporte nor glory in this worlde amonge men 
of warre, but to use suche lyfe as we have done in tyme past. 
What a joy was it to us when we rode forth at adventure, and 
somtyme found by the way a riche priour or merchaunt, or a 
route of mulettes of Mountpellyer, of Narbonne, of Lymens, 
of Fongans, of Besyers, of Tholous, or of Carcassone, laden 
with cloth of Brussels, or peltre ware comynge fro the fayres, 
or laden with spycery fro Bruges, fro Damas, or fro Aiysaun- 
dre : whatsoever we met, alle was ours, or els ransoumed at 
our pleasures; da} r ly we gate newe money, and the vyllaynes 
of Auvergne and of Lymosyn dayly provyded and brought to 
our castell whete mele, good wynes, beffes, and fatte mottons ; 



235 



pullayne and wylde foule : We were ever fumyshed as tho we 
had been kings. When we rode forthe, all the countrey trym- 
bled for feare : all was ours goying and comynge. Howe tok 
we Carlasr, I and the Bourge of Compayne, and I and Perot 
of Bernoys took Caluset: how dyd we scale, with lytell ayde, 
the strong castell of Marquell, pertayning to the Erl Dolphyn : 
I kept it nat past fyve days, but I receyved for it, on a feyre 
table, fyve thousande frankes, and forgave one thousande for 
the love of the Erl Dolphyn's children. By my fayth, this was 
a favre and a good lyfe ; wherefore I repute myselve sore de- 
scey ved, in that I have rendered up the fortres of Aloys ; for 
it wolde have kept fro alle the worlde, and the daye that I 
gave it up, it was. fourny shed with vytaylles, to have been kept 
seven yere without any re-vytaylynge. This Erl of Armynake 
hath deceyved me : Olyve Barbe, and Perot le Bernoys, shew- 
ed to me how I shulde repente myselfe : certayne I sore re- 
pente myselfe of what I have done."— Froissart, Vol. II. 
p. 195. 

By wily turns, by desperate bounds, 

Had baffled Percy's best blood-hounds.— St. XXI. p. 30. 
The kings and heroes of Scotland, as well as the Border-vi- 
ders, were sometimes obliged to study how to evade the pur- 
suit of blood-hounds. Barbour informs us, that Robert Bruce 
was repeatedly tracked by sleuth-dogs. On one occasion, he 
escaped by wading a bow-shot down a brook, and thus baffled 
the scent. The pursuers came up s 



236 

Ifcycht to the bum thai passyt ware, 
Bot the sleuth-hund made stinting thar, 
And waueryt lang tyme ta and fra, 
That he na certain gate couth ga ; 
Till at the last Jhon of Lorn, 
Perseuvit the hund the sleuth had lorne. 

The Bruce, Book vii. 

A sure way of stopping the dog was to spill blood upon the 
track, which destroyed the discriminating fineness of his scent 
A captive was sometimes sacrificed on such occasions, Hen- 
ry the Minstrel tells a romantic story of Wallace, founded on 
this circumstance : — The hero's little band had been joined by 
an Irishman, named Fawdon, or Fadzean, a dark, savage, and 
suspicious character. After a sharp skirmish at Black-Erne 
Side, Wallace was forced to retreat with only sixteen follow- 
ers. The English pursued with a border sleuth-brat ch, or blood- 
hound : 

In Gelderland there was that bratchel bred, 

Siker of scent, to follow ihem that tied ; 

So was he used in Eske and Liddesdail, 

While (i. e. till) she gat blood no fleeing might avail. 

In the retreat, Fawdon, tired, or affecting to be so, would 
go no farther : Wallace, having in vain argued with him, in 
hasty anger, struck off his head, and continued the retreat. — 
When the English came up, their hound stayed upon the dead 
body. 



237 

The sleuth stopped at Fawdoun, till she stood. 
Nor farther would fra time she fund the blood. 



The story concludes with a fine Gothic scene of terror.. Wal- 
lace took refuge in the solitary tower of Gask. Here he was 
disturbed at midnight by the blast of a horn : he sent out his 
attendants by two and two, but no one returned with tidings. 
At length, when he was left alone, the sound was heard still 
louder. The champion descended, sword in hand ; and at the 
gate of the tower was encountered by the headless spectre of 
Fawdoun, whom he had slain so rashly. Wallace, in great ter- 
ror, fled up into the tower, tore open the boards of a window, 
leapt down fifteen feet in height, and continued his flight up 
the river. Looking back to Gask, he discovered the tower on 
fire, and the form of Fawdoun upon the battlements, dilated to 
immense size, and holding in his hand a blazing rafter. The 
Minstrel concludes, 



Trust ryght wele, that all this be sooth, indeed, 
Supposing it be no point of the creed. 

the Wallace, Book r. 



Mr Ellis has extracted this tale as a sample of Henry's poe- 
try. — Specimens of English Poetry, Vol. I. p. 351. 

Dimly he tiezved the Moat-hilVs mound.— St. XXV. p. 33. 
This is a round artificial mount near Hawick, which, from 
its name (Mot. Ang. Sax. Concilium, Conventus), was probably 




238 



anciently used as a place for assembling a national council of 
the adjacent tribes. There are many such mounds in Scotland, 
and they are sometimes, but rarely, of a square form. 

Beneath the tower of Hazeldean. — St. XXV. p. 33. 
The estate of Hazeldean, corruptly Hassendean, belonged 
formerly to a family of Scotts, thus commemorated by Satch- 
ells: 



Hassendean came without a call, 
The ancientest house among them all. 



On Minto-crags the moon-beams glint. — St. XXVII. p. 34. 
A romantic assemblage of cliffs, which rise suddenly above 
the vale of Teviot, in the immediate vicinity of the family- 
seat, from which Lord Minto takes his title. A small platform, 
on a projecting crag, commanding a most beautiful prospect, 
is termed Barnhills' Bed. This Barnhills is said to have been 
a robber, or outlaw. There are remains of a strong tower be- 
neath the rocks, where he is supposed to have dwelt, and from 
which he derived his name. On the summit of the crags are 
the fragments of another ancient tower, in a picturesque situa- 
tion. Among the houses cast down by the Earl of Hartforde, 
in 1545, occur the towers of Easter Barnhills, and of Minto 
crag, with Minto town and place. Sir Gilbert Elliot, father to 
the present Lord Minto, was the author of a beautiful pastoral 



i v V 



239 



song, of which the following is a more correct copy than is 
usually published. The poetical mantle of Sir Gilbert Elliot 
has descended to his family. 



My sheep I neglected, I broke my sheep-hook, 
And all the gay haunts of my youth 1 forsook : 
No lore tor Amynta fresh garlands I wove j 
Ambition, I said, would soon cure me of love. 
But what had my youth with ambition to do ? 
Why left I Amynta ? Why broke I my vow ? 

Through regions remote in vain do I rove, 
And bid the wide world secure me from love. 
Ah, fool, to imagine, that aught could subdue 
A love so well-founded, a passion so true ! 
Ah, give me my sheep, and my sheep-hook restore, 
And I'll wander from love and Amynta no more ! 

Alas ! 'tis too late at thy fate to repine ! 
Poor shepherd, Amynta no more can be thine \ 
Thy tears are all fruitless, thy wishes are vain, 
The moments neglected return not again. 
Ah ! what had my youth with ambition to do ? 
Why left 1 Amynta ? Why broke I my vow ? 



Ancient RiddeW s fair domain. — St. XXVIII. p. 35, 
The family of Riddel have been very long in possession of 
the barony called Riddell, or Ryedale, part of which still bears 
the latter name. Tradition carries their antiquity to a point 
extremely remote ; and is, in some degree, sanctioned by the 
discovery of two stone coffins, one containing an earthen pot 



•■* ' 



£40 



filled with ashes and arms, bearing a legible date, A. D. 727 ; 
the other dated 936, and filled with the bones of a man of gi- 
gantic size. These coffins were discovered in the foundations 
of what was, but has long ceased to be, the chapel of Riddell ; 
and as it was argued, with plausibility, that they contained the 
remains of some ancestors of the family, they were deposited 
in the modern place of sepulchre, comparatively so termed, 
though built in 1110. But the following curious and authentic 
documents warrant most conclusively the epithet of ancient 
Riddell. 1st, A charter by David I. to Walter Rydale, she- 
riff of Roxburgh, confirming all the estates of Liliesclive, &c. 
of which his father, Gervasius de Rydale, died possessed.— 
2dly, A bull of Pope Adrian IV. confirming the will of Wal- 
ter de Ridale, knight, in favour of his brother Anschittil de 
Ridale, dated 8th April, 1155. Sdly, A bull of Pope Alexan- 
der III., confirming the said will of Walter de Ridale, be- 
queathing to his brother Anschittil the lands of Liliesclive, 
Whettunes, &c. and ratifying the bargain betwixt Anschittil 
and Huctredus, concerning the church of Liliesclive, in con- 
sequence of the mediation of Malcolm II., and confirmed by 
a charter from that monarch. This bull is dated 17th June, 
1160. 4thly, A bull of the same Pope, confirming the will of 
Sir Anschittil de Ridale, in favour of his son Walter, convey- 
ing the said lands of Liliesclive and others, dated 10th March, 
1120. It is remarkable, that Liliesclive, otherwise Rydale, or 
Riddel, and the Whettunes, have descended, through a long 
train of ancestors, without ever passing into a collateral line, 



241 

to the person of Sir John Buchanan Riddell, Bart, of Riddell, 
the lineal descendant and representative of Sir Anschittel. — 
These circumstances appeared worthy of notice in a Border 
work. 

As glanced his eye o'er Halidon. — St. XXX. p. 36. 
Halidon was an ancient seat of the Kerrs of Cessford, now 
demolished. About a quarter of a mile to the northward lay 
the field of battle betwixt Buccleuch and Angus, which is cal- 
led to this day the Skirmish Field. — See the 4th note on this 
Canto. 

Old Metros 7 rose, and fair Tweed ran. — St. XXXI. p. 37". 
The ancient and beautiful monastery of Melrose was found- 
ed by King David I. Its ruins afford the finest specimen of 
Gothic architecture, and Gothic sculpture, which Scotland can 
boast. The stone, of which it is built, though it has resisted 
the weather for so many ages, retains perfect sharpness, so 
that even the most minute ornaments seem as entire as when 
newly wrought. In some of the cloisters, as is hinted in the 
next Canto, there are representations of flowers, vegetables, 
&c. carved in stone, with accuracy and precision so delicate, 
that we almost distrust our senses, when we consider the diffi- 
culty of subjecting so hard a substance to such intricate and 
exquisite modulation. This superb convent was dedicated to 
St Mary, and the monks were of the Cistertian order. At the 
time of the Reformation, they shared in the general reproach 



%m 



of sensuality and irregularity, thrown upon the Roman church- 
men. The old words of Galashiels, a favourite Scottish air, 
ran thus : 



O the monks of Melrose made gude kale 
On Fridays when they fasted ; 

They wanted neither beef nor ale, 
As long as their neighbour's lasted. 



* Kale, Broth. 



NOTES 



ON 



CANTO II. 



When silver edges the imagery, 

And the scrolls that teach thee to lite and die. 

St. I. p. 44. 
The buttresses, ranged along the sides of the ruins of Mel- 
rose Abbey, are, according to the Gothic style, richly carved 
and fretted, containing niches for the statues of saints, and 
labelled with scrolls, bearing appropriate texts of Scripture. 
Most of these statues have been demolished. 

St David's ruined pile. — St. I. p. 44. 

David the First of Scotland purchased the reputation of 
sanctity, by founding, and liberally endowing, not only the mo- 
nastery of Melrose, but those of Kelso, Jedburgh, and many 
others, which led to the well-known observation of his succes- 
sor, that he was a sore saint for the crown. 



244 



■ ■ ' 'Lands and livings, many a rood, 

Had gifted the shrine for their souls' repose. — 

St. II. p. 45. 
The Buccleueh family were great benefactors to the abbey 
of Melrose. As early as the reign of Robert II., Robert Scott, 
baron of Murdieston and Rankelburn (now Buccleueh), gave to 
the monks the lands of Hinkery, in Ettricke forest, pro salute 
animcB sua. — Chartulary of Melrose, 28th May, 1415. 

Prayer know I hardly one ; 

m * * * 

Save to patter an Ave Mary, 
When I ride on a Border foray. — St. VI. p. 47. 
The Borderers were, as may be supposed, very ignorant 
about religious matters. Colville, in his JParanesis, or Admo- 
nition, states, that the reformed divines were so far from un- 
dertaking distant journies to convert the Heathen, " as I wold 
wis at God that ye wold only go bot to the Hielands and Bor- 
ders of our own realm, to gain our awin countreymen, who, 
for lack of preching and ministration of the sacraments, must, 
with tyme, becum either infedells, or atheists." But we learn, 
from Lesly, that, however deficient in real religion, they regu- 
larly told their beads, and never with more zeal than when go- 
ing on a plundering expedition. 

Beneath their feet were the bones of the dead. — St. VII. p. 48. 
The cloisters were frequently used as places of sepulchre. 



245 



An instance occurs in Dryburgh Abbey, where the cloister has 
an inscription, bearing, Hie jacet J rater Archibaldus. 

So had he seen, in fair Castile, 

The youth in glittering squadrons start; 

Sudden the flying jennet wheel, 

And hurl the unexpected dart. — St. VIII. p. 48. 
" By my faith," sayd the Duke of Lancaster, (to a Portu- 
guese squire) " of all the feates of armes that the Castellyans, 
and they of your countrey doth use, the castynge of their 
dartes best pleaseth me, and gladly I wolde se it ; for as I hear 
say, if they strike one aryght, without he be well armed, the 
dart will pierce him thrughe." — " By my fayth, Sir," sayd the 
squyer, " ye say trouth; for I have seen many a grete stroke 
given with them, which at one time cost us derely, and was 
to us great displeasure ; for at the said skyrmishe, Sir John 
Laurence of Coygne was striken with a dart in such wise, that 
the head perced all the plates of his cote of mayle, and a sacke 
stopped with sylke, and passed thrughe his body, so that he 
fell down dead." — Froissart, Vol. II. ch. 44. — This mode of 
fighting with darts was imitated in the military game called 
Juego de las canas, which the Spaniards borrowed from their 
Moorish invaders. A Saracen champion is thus described by 
Froissart : " Among the Sarazyns, there was a yonge knight 
called Agadinger Dolyferne; he was always wel mounted on a 
redy and a lyght horse ; it seemed, when the horse ranne, that 
he did flye in the ayre. The knighte seemed to be a good man 



246 



of armes by his dedes ; he bare always of usage three fethered 
dartes, and rychte well he coulde handle them ; and, according 
to their custome, he was clene armed, with a long white towell 
aboute his heed. His apparell was blacke, and his own co- 
lour browne, and a good horseman. The Crysten men say, 
they thoughte he dyd such deeds of armes for the love of 
some yonge ladye of his countrey. And true it was, that he 
loved entirely the king of Thunes' daughter, named the Lady 
Azala; she was iuherytour to the realme of Thunes, after the 
discease of the kyng, her father. This Agadinger was sone to 
the Duke of Oly ferae. I can nat telle if they were married 
together after or nat; but it was shewed me that this knyght, 
for love of the sayd ladye, during the siege, did many feats of 
armes. The knyghtes of Fraunce wold fayne have taken hym ; 
but they colde never attrape nor inclose him, his horse was 
so swyft, and so redy to his hand, that alwaies he escaped." — 
Vol. II. ch. 71. 

• - -Thy low and lonely urn, 
O gallant chief of Otterburne. — St. X. p. 50. 
The famous and desperate battle of Otterburne was fought 
15th August, 1388, betwixt Henry Percy, called Hotspur, and 
James Earl of Douglas. Both these renowned champions 
were at the head of a chosen body of troops, and they were 
rivals in military fame ; so that Froissart affirms, " Of all the 
battaylles and encounteryngs that I have made mencion of 
here before in all this hystory, great or smalle, this batayle 



247 



that I treat of nowe was one of the sorest and best foughtenj 
without cowardes or faynte hertes ; for there was neyther 
knyghte nor squyer but that dyde his devoyre, and fought hande 
to hande. This batayle was lyke the batayle of Becherell, 
the which was valiauntlye fought and endured." The issue of 
the conflict is well known : Percy was made prisoner, and the 
Scots won the day, dearly purchased by the death of their 
gallant general, the Earl of Douglas, who was slain in the ac- 
tion. He was buried at Melrose beneath the high altar. 
" His obsequye was done reverently, and on his body layde a 
tombe of stone, and his baner hangyng over hym." — Fkois- 
sart, Vol. II. p. 161. 

Dark knight of Liddesdale. — St. X. p. 50. 

William Douglas, called the knight of Liddesdale, flourished 
during the reign of David II. ; and was so distinguished by his 
valour, thas he was called the Flower of Chivalry. Neverthe- 
less, he tarnished his renown by the cruel murder of Sir Alex- 
ander Ramsay of Dalhousie, originally his friend and brother 
in arms. The king had conferred upon Ramsay the sheriffdom 
of Teviotdale, to which Douglas pretended some claim. In 
revenge of this preference, the knight of Liddesdale came 
down upon Ramsay, while he was administering justice at 
Hawick, seized, and carried him off to his remote and inacces- 
sible castle of Hermitage, where he threw his unfortunate pri- 
soner, horse and man, into a dungeon, and left him to perish 
of hunger. It is said, the miserable captive prolonged his 



248 

existence for several days by the corn which fell from a gra-r 
nary above the vault in which he was confined. * So weak was 
the royal authority, that David, although highly incensed at 
this atrocious murder, found himself obliged to appoint the 
knight of Liddesdale successor to his victim, as sheriff of Te- 
viotdale. But he was soon after slain, while hunting in Et- 
trick Forest, by his own godson and chieftain, William Earl of 
Douglas, in revenge, according to some authors, of Ramsay's 
murder; although a popular tradition, preserved in a ballad 
quoted by Godscroft, and some parts of which are still pre- 



* There is something affecting in the manner in which the old 
Prior of Lochlevin turns from describing the death of the gallant 
Jlamsay, to the general sorrow which it excited : 

To tell you there of the manere, 
It is bot sorow for til here ; 
He wes the grettast menyd man 
That ony cowth have thowcht of than, 
Of his state, or of mare be fare; 
All menyt him, bath bettyr and war ; 
The ryche and pure him menyde bath, 
For of his dede was ruekil skath. 



Some years ago, a person digging for stones, about the old castlo 
of Hermitage, broke into a vault, containing a quantity of chaff, 
some bones, and pieces of iron ; amongst others, the curb of an 
ancient bridle, which the author has since given to the Earl of Dal- 
housie, under the impression, that it possibly may be a relique of 
his brave ancestor. The worthy clergyman of the parish has men- 
tioned this discovery, in his statistical account of Castletown. 



249 



served, ascribes the resentment of the Earl to jealousy. The 
place, where the knight of Liddesdale was killed, is called, 
from his name, William-cross, upon the ridge of a hill called 
William-hope, betwixt Tweed and Yarrow. His body, accord- 
ing to Godscroft, was carried to Lindean church the first 
night after his death, and thence to Melrose, where he was in- 
terred with great pomp, and where his tomb is still shewn. 

The moon on the east oriel shone. — St. XI. p. 50. 
It is impossible to conceive a more beautiful specimen of 
the lightness and elegance of Gothic architecture, when in its 
purity, than the eastern window of Melrose abbey. Sir James 
Hall of Dunglas, bart. has, with great ingenuity and plausibi- 
lity, traced the Gothic order through its various forms, and 
seemingly eccentric ornaments, to an architectural imitation 
of wicker-work ; of which, as we learn from some of the le- 
gends, the earliest Christian churches were constructed. In 
such an edifice, the original of the clustered pillars is traced 
to a set of round posts, begirt with slender rods of willow, 
whose loose summits were brought to meet from all quarters, 
and bound together artificially, so as to produce the frame- 
\york of the roof : and the tracery of our Gothic windows is 
displayed in the meeting and interlacing of rods and hoops, 
affording an inexhaustible variety of beautiful forms of open 
work. This ingenious system is alluded to in the romance. 
Sir James Hall's Essay on Gothic architecture is published in 
The Edinburgh Philosophical Transactions. 



250 

They sate them dozen on a marble stone, 
A Scottish monarch slept below. — St. XII. p. 5f. ). 
A large marble stone, in the chancel of Melrose, is pointed 
out as the monument of Alexander II., one of the greatest of 
our early kings ; others say, it is the resting place of Waldeve, 
one of the early abbots, who died in the odour of sanctity. 

The wondrous Michael Scott. —St. XIII. p. 51. 

Sir Michael Scott of Balwearie flourished during the 13th 
century, and was one of the ambassadors sent to bring the 
Maid of Norway to Scotland upon the death of Alexander III. 
By a poetical anachronism, he is here placed in a later aera. 
He was a man of much learning, chiefly acquired in foreign 
countries. He wrote a commentary upon Aristotle, printed 
at Venice in 1496 ; and several treatises upon natural philo- 
sophy, from which he appears to have been addicted to the 
abstruse studies of judicial astrology, alchymy, physiognomy, 
and chiromancy. Hence he passed among his contemporaries 
for a skilful magician. Dempster informs us, that he remem- 
bers to have heard in his youth, that the magic books of Michael 
Scott were still in existence, but could not be opened without 
danger, on account of the fiends who were thereby invoked. 
Dempsteri Historia Ecclesiastic a, 1627, lib. xii. p. 495. Lesly 
characterises Michael Scott, as " singulari philosophic, astro- 
nomies, ac medicine laude prestans ; dicebatur penitissimos ma~ 
gite recessus indagasse" Dante also mentions, him as a re- 
nowned wizard : 



251 

Quell altro chi ne' fianchi e cosi poco 
Michele Scoto fu, chi veramente 
Delle magiche frode soppe il gioco. 

Divina Co?nedia, Canto xxmo. 



A personage, thus spoken of by biographers and historians, 
loses little of his mystical fame in vulgar tradition. Accord- 
ingly, the memory of Sir Michael Scott survives in many a le- 
gend; and in the south of Scotland, any work of great labour 
and antiquity is ascribed, either to the agency of Auld Michael, 
of Sir William Wallace, or of the devil. Tradition varies con- 
cerning the place of his burial : some contend for Holme Col- 
trame, in Cumberland ; others for Melrose Abbey. But all 
agree, that his books of magic were interred in his grave, or 
preserved in the convent where he died. Satchells, wishing to 
give some authority for his account of the origin of the name 
of Scott, pretends, that, in 1629, he chanced to be at Burgh, 
under Bowness, in Cumberland, where a person, named Lan- 
celot Scott, shewed him. an extract from Michael Scott's works, 
containing that story : 



'"* He said the book which he gave me 

Was of Sir Michael Scot's historie ; 

Which historie was never yet read through, 

Nor never will, for no man dare it do. 

Young scholars have pick'd out something 

From the contents, that dare not read within. 

He carried me along the castle then, 

And shew'd his written book hanging on an iron pin-. 

His writing pen did seem to me to be 

Of hardened metal, like steel, or accumie; 



252 

The volume of it did seem so large to me. 

As the book of Martyrs and Turks historic 

Then in the church he let me see 

A stone where Mr Michael Scot did lie ; 

I asked at him how that could appear, 

Mr Michael had been dead above five hundred year? 

He shew'd me none durst bury under that stone, 

More than he had been dead a few years agone ; 

For Mr Michael's name does terrifie each one." 

History of the Right Honourable Name of Scot. 

■ ■• — ■ ■ Salamanca's cave. — St. XIII. p. 52. 



Spain, from the reliques, doubtless, of Arabian learning and 
superstition, was accounted a favourite residence of magicians. 
Pope Sylvester, who actually imported from Spain the use of 
the Arabian numerals, was supposed to have learned there 
the magic, for which he was stigmatized by the ignorance of 
his age. — William of Malmsbury, lib. ii. cap. 10. There were 
public schools, where magic, or rather the sciences supposed 
to involve its mysteries, were regularly taught, at Toledo, 
Seville, and Salamanca. In the latter city, they were held in 
a deep cavern ; the mouth of which was walled up by Queen 
Isabella, wife of King Ferdinand. — JfAutun on learned In- 
credulity, p. 45. These Spanish schools of magic are cele- 
brated also by the Italian poets of romance ; 



Questo citta di Tolletto solea 
Tenere studio di Negromanzia, 
Quivi di magica arte si leggea 
Pubblicamente, e di Peroraanzia 5 



253 



E molti Geomanti sempre avea 
E speriinenti assai d' Tetremanzia 
E d' altre false opinion di sciocchi 
Come e fatture, o spesso batter gli occbi. 

II Morgante Maggiore, Canto XXV. St. 259. 



The celebrated magician Maugis, cousin to Rinaldo of Mon- 
talban, called, by Ariosto, Malagigi, studied the black art at 
Toledo, as we learn from L'Histoire de Maugis Tf Aygremont. 
He even held a professor's chair in the necromantic univer- 
sity ; for so I interpret the passage, " qu'en tons les sept ars 
cCenchantement, des charmes et conjurations il rHy avoit meil- 
Icur maistre que lui ; et en tel renom qiifon le laissoit en 
chaise, et Vappelloit on maistre Maugis" This Salamancan 
Domdaniel is said to have been founded by Hercules. If the 
classic reader enquires where Hercules himself learned magic, 
he may consult " Les faicts et proesseS du noble et vaillant 
Hercules" where he will learn, that the fable of his aiding 
Atlas to support the heavens, arose from the said Atlas having 
taught Hercules, the noble knight errant, the seven liberal 
sciences, and, in particular, that of judicial astrology. Such, 
according to the idea of the middle ages, were the studies, 
" maximus qua docuit Atlas" — In a romantic history of Iiode- 
ric, the last Gothic king of Spain, he is said to have entered 
one of those enchanted caverns. It was situated beneath an 
ancient tower near Toledo ; and, when the iron gates, which 
secured the entrance, were unfolded, there rushed forth so 
dreadful a whirlwind, that hitherto no one had dared to pene- 



254 



trate into its recesses. But Roderic, threatened with an in- 
vasion of the Moors, resolved to enter the cavern, where he 
expected to find some prophetic intimation of the event of the 
war. Accordingly, his train being furnished with torches so 
artificially composed, that the tempest could not extinguish 
them, the king, with great difficulty, penetrated into a square 
hall, inscribed all over with Arabian characters. In the midst 
stood a colossal statue of brass, representing a Saracen wield- 
ing a Moorish mace, with which it discharged furious blows on 
all sides, and seemed thus to excite the tempest which raged 
around. Being conjured by Roderic, it ceased from striking, 
until he read, inscribed on the right hand, " Wretched monarch, 
for thy evil hast thou come hither ;" on the left hand, " Thou 
shalt be dispossessed by a strange people ;" on one shoulder, " I 
invoke the sons of Hagar ;" on the other, " I do mine office" 
When the king had decyphered these ominous inscriptions, the 
statue returned to its exercise, the tempest commenced anew, 
and Roderic retired, to mourn over the predicted evils which 
approached his throne. He caused the gates of the cavern to 
be locked and barricaded ; but, in the course of the night, the 
tower fell with a tremendous noise, and under its ruins con- 
cealed for ever the entrance to the mystic cavern. The con- 
quest of Spain by the Saracens, and the death of the unfortu- 
nate Don Roderic, fulfilled the prophecy of the brazen statue. 
Historia verdadera del Rey Don Rodrigo por el sabio Al- 
cayde Abulcacim, traduzeda de la lengua Arabiga por Miguel 
de Luna, 1654, cap. vi. 



255 



The bells would ring in Notre Dame. — St. XIII. p. 52. 
* Tantamne rem tarn negligenter f J says Tyrwhitt, of his 
predecessor Speight; who, in his commentary on Chaucer, had 
omitted, as trivial and fabulous, the story of Wade and his 
boat Guingelot, to the great prejudice of posterity; the me- 
mory of the hero, and the boat, being now entirely lost. That 
future antiquaries may lay no such omission to my charge, I 
have noted one or two of the most current traditions concern-' 
ing Michael Scott; He was chosen, it is said, to go upon an 
embassy, to obtain from the king of France satisfaction for 
certain piracies committed by his subjects upon those of Scot- 
land. Instead of preparing a new equipage and splendid reti- 
nue, the ambassador retreated to his study, opened his book, 
and evoked a fiend in the shape of a huge black horse, 
mounted upon his back, and forced him to fly through the air 
towards France. As they crossed the sea, the devil insidious- 
ly asked his rider, What it was that the old women of Scot- 
land muttered at bed-time ? A less experienced wizard might 
have answered, that it was the Pater Noster, which would 
have licensed the devil to precipitate him from his back. 
But Michael sternly replied, " What is that to thee ? Mount, 
Diabolus, and fly !•'■ When he arrived at Paris, he tied his 
horse to the gate of the palace, entered, and boldly delivered 
his message. An ambassador, with so little of the pomp and 
circumstance of diplomacy, was not received with much re- 
spect, and the king was about to return a contemptuous re- 
fusal to his demand, when Michael besought him to suspend 



%56 

his resolution till he had seen his horse stamp three times. 
The first stamp shook every steeple in Paris, and caused all 
the bells to ring ; the second threw down three of the towers 
of the palace ; and the infernal steed had lifted his hoof to 
give the third stamp, when the king rather chose to dismiss 
Michael, with the most ample concessions, than to stand to 
the probable consequences. Upon another occasion, the ma- 
gician, having studied so long in the mountains that he became 
faint for want of food, sent his servant to procure some from 
the nearest farm-house. The attendant received a churlish 
denial from the farmer. Michael commanded him to return 
to this rustic Nabal, and lay before him his cap, or bonnet, 
repeating these words ; 

Maister Michael Scott's man 
Sought meat, and gat nane. 

When this was done and said, the enchanted bonnet be- 
came suddenly inflated, and began to run round the house 
with great speed, pursued by the farmer, his wife, his servants, 
and the reapers, who were on the neighbouring kar'st rigg, 
No one had the power to resist the fascination, or refrain from 
joining in pursuit of the bonnet, until they were totally ex- 
hausted with their ludicrous exercise. A similar charm occurs 
in Huon de Bourdeaux, and in the ingenious Oriental tale, 
called the Caliph Vathek. 

Michael, like his predecessor Merlin, fell at last a victim to 
female art: His wife, or concubine, elicited out of him the 



257 

secret, that his art could ward off any danger except the poi- 
sonous qualities of broth, made of the flesh of a breme sow.- 
Such a mess she accordingly administered to the wizard, who 
died in consequence of eating it; surviving, however, long 
enough to put to death his treacherous confidant. 

The words, that cleft Eildon hills in three, 
And bridled the Tweed with a curb of stone. 

* St. XIII. p. 52. 

Michael Scott was, once upon a time, much embarrassed by 
a spirit, for whom he was under the necessity of finding con- 
stant employment. He commanded him to build a cauld, or 
dam-head, across the Tweed at Kelso : it was accomplished in 
one night, and still does honour to the infernal architect. 
Michael next ordered, that Eildon hill, which was then a uni- 
form cone, should be divided into three. Another night was 
sufficient to part its summit into the three picturesque peaks 
which it now bears. At length the enchanter conquered this 
indefatigable daemon, by employing him in the hopeless and 
endless task of making ropes out of sea-sand. 

That lamp shall burn unquenchable/. — St. XVIT. p. 54. 
Eaptista Porta, and other authors who treat of natural ma 
gic, talk much of eternal lamps, pretended to have been found 
burning in ancient sepulchres. Fortunius Licetus investigates 
the subject in a treatise, De Lucernis antiquorum reconditis, 
published at Venice, 1621. One of these perpetual lamps is 
R 



2.58 



said to have been discovered in the tomb of Tulliola, the 
daughter of Cicero. The wick was supposed to be composed 
of asbestos. Kircher enumerates three different receipts for 
constructing such lamps ; and wisely concludes, that the thing 
is nevertheless impossible. — Mundus Subterraneus, p. 72. — 
Delrio imputes the fabrication of such lights to magical skill. 
Disguisitiones Magicce, p. 58. — In a very rare romance, which 
" treateth of the lyfe of Virgilius, and of his deth, and many 
marvayles that he dyd in his lyfe-time, by whyche-crafte and 
nygramancye, throughe the helpe of the devyls of hell," men- 
tion is made of a very extraordinary process, in which one of 
these mystical lamps was employed. It seems, that Virgil, as 
he advanced in years, became desirous of renovating his youth 
by his magical art. For this purpose he constructed a solita- 
ry tower, having only one narrow portal, in which he placed 
twenty-four copper figures, armed with iron flails, twelve on 
each side of the porch. These enchanted statues struck with 
their flails incessantly, and rendered all entrance impossible, 
unless when Virgil touched the spring, which stopped their 
motion. To this tower he repaired privately, attended by one 
trusty servant, to whom he communicated the secret of the 
entrance, aud hither they conveyed all the magician's treasure. 
" Then sayde Virgilius, my dere beloved frende, and he that I 
above alle men truste and knowe mooste of my secret;" and 
then he led the man into a cellar, where he made ^fayer lamp 
at all seasons burnynge. And then sayd Virgilius to the man, 
(t Se yon the barrel that slandeth here ?" and he sayd, yea : 



259 



u Therin must thou put me : fyrste ye must slee me, and hewe 
me smalle to peces, and cut my hed in iiii peces, and sake the 
heed under in the bottom, and then the peces there after, and 
my herte in the myddel, and then set the barrel under the 
lampe, that nyghte and day the fat therin may droppe and 
leake ; and ye shall, ix dayes long, ones in the day, fyll the 
lampe, and fayle nat. And when this is all done, then shall X 
be renued, and made yonge agen." At this extraordinary pro- 
posal, the confidant was sore abashed, and made some scruple 
of' obeying his master's commands. At length, however, he 
complied, and Virgil was slain, pickled, and barrelled up, in 
all respects according to his own direction. The servant then 
left the tower, taking care to put the copper threshers in mo- 
tion at his departure. He continued daily to visit the tower 
with the same precaution. Meanwhile, the emperor, with whom 
Virgil was a great favourite, missed him from the court, and 
demanded of his servant where he was. The domestic pre- 
tended ignorance, till the emperor threatened him with death, 
when at length he conveyed him to the enchanted tower. The 
same threat extorted a discovery of the mode of stopping the 
statues from wielding their flails. " And then the emperour 
entered into the castle with all his folke, and soughte all aboute 
in every corner after Virgilius ; and at the last they soughte 
so longe, that they came into the seller, where they sawe the 
lampe hang over the barrell, where Virgilius lay in deed. 
Then asked the emperour the man, who had made hym so 
herdy to put his mayster Virgilius so to dethe ; and the man 



260 

answered no worde to the emperour. And then the emperour, 
with great anger, drewe oute his sworde, and slewe he there 
Virgilius' man. And when all this was done, then sawe the 
emperour, and all his folke, a naked childe iii tymes rennynge 
about the barell, saynge these wordes, c cursed be the tyme 
that ye ever came here !' And with those wordes vanyshed 
the chylde awaye, and was never sene ageyn ; and thus abyd 
Virgilius in the barell deed." Virgilius, bl. let. printed at Ant- 
werpe by John Doesborcke. This curious volume is in the 
valuable library of Mr Douce ; and is supposed to be a 
translation from the French, printed in Flanders for the 
English market. See Goujet Biblioth. Franc, ix. 225. Cata- 
logue de la Bibliotheque Nationale, Tom. II. p. 5. De Bure^ 
No. 3857. 

He thought, as he took it, the dead man frowned. 

St. XXI. p. 58. 
William of Deloraine might be strengthened in this belief 
by the well-known story of the Cid Ruy Diaz. When the body 
of that famous Christian champion was sitting in state by the 
high altar, where it remained for ten years, a certain malicious 
Jew attempted to pull him by the beard ; but he had no sooner 
touched the formidable whiskers, than the corpse started up, 
and half unsheathed his sword. The Israelite fled ; and so per- 
manent was the effect of his terror, that he became Christian. 
Heywood's Hierarchie, p. 480, quoted from Sebastian Cobar 
rutias Crozce. 



261 

The Baron 9 s Dwarf his courser held. — St. XXXI. p. 64. 

The idea of Lord Cranstoun's Goblin Page is taken from a 
being called Gilpin Horner, who appeared, and made some 
stay, at a farm-house among the Border-mountains. A gen- 
tleman of that country has noted down the following particu- 
lars concerning his appearance. 

" The only certain, at least most probable, account, that 
ever I heard of Gilpin Horner, was from an old man of the 
name of Anderson, who was born, and lived all his life, at 
Todshawhill, in Eskedale-muir, the place where Gilpin appear- 
ed and staid for some time. He said there were two men, 
late in the evening, when it was growing dark, employed in 
fastening the horses upon the uttermost part of their ground 
(that is, tying their fore-feet together, to hinder them from 
travelling far in the night), when they heard a voice, at some 
distance, crying ' tint ! tint ! tint !* * One of the men, 
named Moftat, called out, ' What de'il has tint you ? Come 
here/ Immediately a creature of something like a human 
form appeared. It was surprisingly little, distorted in features, 
and mis-shapen in limbs. As soon as the two men could see 
it plainly, they run home in a great fright, imagining they had 
met with some goblin. By the way Moffat fell, and it run 
over him, and was home at the house as soon as any of them, 
and staid there a long time ; but I cannot say how long. It 
was real flesh and blood, and ate and drank, was fond of cream, 
and, when it could get at it, would destroy a great deal. It 

* Tint signifies lost. 



262 



seemed a mischievous creature ; and any of the children 
whom it could master, it would beat and scratch without 
mercy. It was once abusing a child belonging to the same 
Moffat, who had been so frightened by its first appearance ; 
and he, in a passion, struck it so violent a blow upon the side 
of the head, that it tumbled upon the ground : but it was not 
stunned ; for it set up its head directly, and exclaimed, * Ah 
hah, Wilt', o' Moffat, you strike sair!' (viz. sore). After it had 
staid there long, one evening, when the women were milking 
the cows in the loan, it was playing among the children near 
by them, when suddenly they heard a loud shrill voice cry, 
three times, ' Gilpin Horner /' It started, and said* f That is 
me, I must away ;' and instantly disappeared, and was never 
heard of more. Old Anderson did not remember it, but said 
he had often heard his father, and other old men in the place 
who were there at the time, speak about it ; and in my younger 
years I have often heard it mentioned, and never met with 
any who had the remotest doubt as to the truth of the story; 
although, I must own, I cannot help thinking there must be 
some misrepresentation in it.'' — To this account I have to add 
the following particulars from the most respectable authority. 
Besides constantly repeating the word tint ! tint ! Gilpin 
Horner was often heard to call upon Peter Bertram, or Be-te- 
ram, as he pronounced the word : and when the shrill voice 
called Gilpin Horner, he immediately acknowledged it was the 
summons of the said Peter Bertram ; who seems therefore to 
have been the devil who had tint, or lost, the little imp. 



263 

But the Ladi/e of Brank*ome gathered a band 
Of the best that would ride at her command. 

St. XXXIII. p. 66. 
<l Upon 25th June, 1557, Dame Janet Beatoune Lady Buc- 
cleuch, and a great number of the name of Scott, deiaitit (ac- 
cused) for coming to the kirk of St Mary of the Lowes, to the 
number of two hundred persons bodin in feir of weire (array- 
ed in armour), and breaking open the doors of the said kirk, 
in order to apprehend the laird of Cranstoune for his destruc- 
tion," On the 20th July, a warrant from the queen is pre- 
sented, discharging the justice to proceed against the Lady 
Buccleuch while new calling. — Abridgement of Books of Ad- 
journal in Advocates 1 Library. — The following proceedings 
upon this case appear on the record of the Court of Justi- 
ciary : On the 25th of June, 155f, Robert Scott, in Bowhill 
parish, priest of the kirk of St Mary's, accused of the convo- 
cation of the Queen's lieges, to the number of 200 persons, in 
warlike array, with jacks, helmets, and other weapons, and 
marching to the chapel of St Mary of the Lowes, for the 
slaughter of Sir Peter Cranstoun, out of ancient feud and ma- 
lice prepense, and of breaking the doors of the said kirk, is 
repledged by the Archbishop of Glasgow. The bail given by 
Robert Scott of Allanhaugh, Adam Scott of Burnefute, Robert 
Scott in Howfurde, Walter Scott in Todshawhaugh, Walter 
Scott younger of Synton, Thomas Scott of Hayning, Robert 
Scott, William Scott, and James Scott, brothers of the said 
Walter Scott, Walter Scott in the Woll, and Walter Scott, son 



M4 

ef William Scott of Harden, and James Wemys in Eckford, 
all accused of the same crime, is declared to be forfeited. On 
the same day, Walter Scott of Sjiiton, and Walter Chisholme 
of Chisholme, and William Scott of Harden, became bound, 
jointly and severally, that Sir Peter Cranstoun, and his kin- 
dred and servants, should receive no injury from them in fu- 
ture. At the same time, Patrick Murray of Fallohill, Alexan- 
der Stuart, uncle to the laird of Trakwhare, John Murray of 
Newhall, John Fairlye, residing in Selkirk, George Tait, 
younger of Pirn, John Pennycuke of Pennycuke, James Ram- 
say of Cokpen, the laird of Fassyde, and the laird of Hender- 
stoune, were all severally fined for not attending as jurors. 
Upon the 20th of July following, Scott of Synton, Chisholme 
of Chisholme, Scott of Harden, Scott of Howpaslie, Scott of 
Burnfute, with many others, are ordered to appear at next 
calling, under the pains of treason. But no farther procedure 
seems to have taken place. It is said, that, upon this rising* 
the kirk of St Mary was burned by the Scotts. 






t&8 

1ST O T* 7^ S 

ON 

- 

CANTO III. 



When, dancing in the sunny beam, 

He marked the crane on the Baron's crest. — St. IV. p. 75. 
The crest of the Cranstouns, in allusion to their name, is a 
crane dormant, holding a stone in his foot, with an emphatic 
Border motto, Thou shalt xcunt ere I want. 

Much he marvelled a knight of pride, 
Like a book-bosomed priest should ride. — St. VIII. p. 78. 
" At Unthank, two miles N. E. from the church (of Ewes), 
there are the ruins of a chapel for divine service, in time of 
popery. There is a tradition, that friars were wont to come 
from Melrose, or Jedburgh, to baptise and marry in this pa- 
rish; and, from being in use to carry the mass-book in their 
bosoms, they were called, by the inhabitants, Book a-bosomes. 



£66 

There is a man yet alive, who knew old men who had been 
baptized by these Book-a-bosomes, and who says one of them, 
called Hair, used this parish for a very long time."— Account 
of Parish of Ezoes, apud Macfarlane's MSS. 

It had much of glamour might. — St. IX. p. 79. 
Glamour, in the legends of Scottish superstition, means the 
magic power of imposing on the eye-sight of the spectators, so 
that the appearance of an object shall be totally different from 
the reality. To such a charm the ballad of Johnny Fa' im- 
putes the fascination of the lovely Countess, who eloped with 
that gypsey leader ; 



Sae soon as they saw her weel far'd face, 
They cast the glamour o'er her. 



It was formerly used even in war. In 1381, when the Duke 
of Anjou lay before a strong castle, upon the coast of Naples, 
a necromancer offered to " make the ayre so thycke, that 
they within shal thynke that there is a great bridge on the see 
(by which the castle was surrounded), for ten men to go a 
front ; and whan they within the castell se this bridge, they 
will be so afrayde, that they shall yelde them to your mercy. 
The Duke demanded — Fayre Master, on this bridge that ye 
speke of, may our people assuredly go thereon to the castell 
to assayle it? Syr, quod the enchantour, I dare not assure 
you that ; for if any that passeth on the bridge make the signe 



267 



of the crosse on hym, all shall go to noughte, and they that 
be on the bridge shall fall into the see. Then the Duke be- 
gan to laugh ; and a certain of yong knightes, that were there 
present, said, Syr, for godsake, let the mayster essay his cun- 
ning; we shal leve making of any signe of the crosse on us 
for that tyme." The Earl of Savoy, shortly after, entered 
the tent, and recognized, in the enchanter, the same person 
who had put the castle into the power of Sir Charles de 
la Payx, who then held it, by persuading the garrison of 
the Queen of Naples, through magical deception, that the sea 
was coming over the walls. The sage avowed the feat, and 
added, that he was the man in the world most dreaded by Sir 
Charles de la Payx. " By my fayth, quod the Erl of Savoy, 
ye say well; and I will that Syr Charles de la Payx shall 
know that he hath gret wronge to fear you. But I shall us- 
sure him of you ; for ye shall never do enchauntment to de- 
ceyve hym, nor yet none other. I wolde nat that in tyme to 
come we shulde be reproached that in so hygh an enterprise 
as we be in, wherein there be so many noble knyghtes and 
squyers assembled, that we shulde do any thyng be enchaunt- 
ment, nor that we shulde wyn our enemys by suche crafte. 
Than he called to hym a servaunt, and sayd, go and get a 
hangman, and let him stryke of this mayster's heed without de- 
lay ; and as sone the Erie had commaunded it, incontynent it 
was done, for his head was stryken of before the Erie's tent. v 
Froissart, Vol. I. ch. 391, 392. 



268 



The art of glamour, or other fascination, was anciently a 
principal part of the skill of the jongleur, or juggler, whose 
tricks formed much of the amusement of a Gothic castle. 
Some instances of this art may be found in the Minstrelsy of 
the Scottish Border, Vol. III. p. 119. In a strange allegorical 
poem, called the Houlet, written by a dependant of the house 
of Douglas, about 1452-3, the jay, in an assembly of birds, 
plays the part of the juggler. His feats of glamour are thus 
described ; 



He gart them see, as it serayt, in sarayn houre, 

Hunting at herdis in holtis so hair ; 
Soune sailand on the see schippis of toure, 
Bernis batalland on burd brim as a bare ; 
He could carye the coup of the kingis des, 
Syne leve in the stede, 
Bot a black bunwede ; 
He could of a henis hede, 
Make a man rnes. 

He gart the Emproure trow, and trewlye behald, 

That the corncraik, the pundare at hand, 
Had poyndit all his pris hors in a poynd fald, 
Because thai ete of the corn in the kirkland. 
He could wirk windaris, quhat way that he wald ; 

Mak a gray gus a gold garland, 
A lang spere of a bittile for a berne bald, 
Nobilis of nutschelles, and silver of sand. 
Thus joukit with juxters the janglane ja, 
Fair ladyes in ringis, 
Knychtis in caralyngis, 
Bayth dansis and singis, 
It semyt as sa. 



2(59 

Now, if you ask who gave the stroke, 

I cannot tell, so mot I thrive ; 

It was not given by man alive. — St. X. p. 80. 
Some writer upon Daemonology tells us of a person, who 
was very desirous to establish a connection with the invisible 
world; and failing in all his conjurations, began to entertain 
doubts of the existence of spirits. While this thought was 
passing through his mind, he received, from an unseen hand, a 
very violent blow. He had immediately recourse to his magi- 
cal arts ; but was unsuccessful in evoking the spirit, who had 
made his existence so sensibly felt. A learned priest told him, 
long after, that the being, who had so chastised his incredulity, 
would be the first whom he should see after his death. 

The running stream dissolved the spell. 

St. XIII. p. 82. 
It is a firm article of popular faith, that no enchantment 
can subsist in a living stream. Nay, if you can interpose a 
brook betwixt you and witches, spectres, or even fiends, you 
are in perfect safety. Burns's inimitable Tarn d Shunter 
turns entirely upon such a circumstance. The belief seems 
to be of antiquity. Brompton informs us, that certain Irish 
wizards could, by spells, convert earthen clods, or stones, into 
fat pigs, which they sold in the market; but which always 
reassumed their proper form, when driven by the deceived 
purchaser across a running stream. But Brompton is severe 



270 

on the Irish, for a very good reason. " Gens ista spurcissima 
non solvunt decimas." Chronicon Johannis Brompton apud 
decern Script ores, p. 1076. 



His buckler scarce in breadth a span, 

No longer fence had he ; 
He never counted him a man, 

Would strike below the knee. — St. XVII. p. 86. 
Imitated from Drayton's account of Robin Hood and his 
followers : 



A hundred valiant men had this brave Robin Hood, 

Still ready at his call, that bowmen were right good ; 

All clad in lincoln green, with caps of red and blue, 

His fellow's winded horn not one of them but knew. 

When setting to their lips their bugles shrill, 

The warbling echoes waked from every dale and hill ; 

Their bauldrics set with studs athwart their shoulders cast, 

To which under their arms their sheafs -were buckled fast. 

A short sword at their belt, a buckler scarce a span, 

Who struck below the knee not counted then a man, 

All made of Spanish yew, their bows were wondrous strong, 

They not an arrow drew but was a clothyard long ; 

Of archery they had the very perfect craft, 

With broad arrow, or but, or prick, or roving shaft. 

Poly Olbion, Song 26. 

To wound an antagonist in the thigh, or leg, was reckoned 
contrary to the law of arms. In a tilt betwixt Gawain Mi- 
chael, an English squire, and Joachim Cathore, a Frenchman, 



c 27l 



" they met at the sperre poyntes rudely: the French squyer 
justed right pleasantly ; the Englishman ran too lowe, for 
he strak the Frenchman depe into the thygh. Wherwith 
the Erie of Buckingham was right sore displeased, and so 
were all the other lordes, and sayde how it was shamefully 
done." Froissart, vol. i. chap. 366. — Upon a similar occasion, 
u the two knights came a fote eche agaynst other rudely, with 
their speares lowe couched, to stryke eche other within the 
foure quarters. Johan of Castel-Moraute strake the Englysh 
squyer on the brest in such wyse, that Sir Wyllyam Fermeton 
stombled and bowed, for his fote a lyttell fayled him. He helde 
his speare lowe with bothe his handes, and coude nat amende 
it, and strake Sir Johan of the Castell-Morante in the thighe, 
so that the speare went clene throughe, that the heed was 
sene a handfull on the other syde. And Syre Johan with the 
stroke reled, but he fell nat. Than the Englyshe knyghtes 
and squyers were ryghte sore displeased, and sayde how it 
was a foule stroke. Syr Wyllyam Fermetone excused him- 
selfe, and sayde how he was sorie of that adventure, and 
howe that yf he had knowen that it shulde have bene so, he 
wolde never have begon it ; sayenge howe he coude nat amende 
it, by cause of glaunsing of his fote by constraynt of the great 
stroke that Syr Johan of the Castell-Morante had given him." 
Ibid. ch. 373. 

4 



272 



And zcith a charm she staunched the blood. 

St. XXIII. p. 90. 
See several charms for this purpose in Reginald Scot's Dis- 
c'oxery of Witchcraft, p. 273. 

Tom Pots was but a serving man, 

But yet he was a doctor good ; 

He bound his handkerchief on the wound, 

And with some kinds of words he staunched the blood. 

Pieces of ancient popular Poetry, Lond. 1791, p.- 131. 

But she has taen the broken lance, 
And washed it from the clotted gore. 
And salved the splinter o'er and o'er.— St. XXIII. p. 90. 

Sir Kenelm Digby, in a discourse upon the cure by sympa- 
thy, pronounced at Montpelier, before an assembly of nobles 
and learned men, translated into English by R. White, gentle- 
man, and published in 1658, gives us the following curious 
surgical case : 

" Mr James Howel (well known in France for his public 
works, and particularly for his Dendrologie, translated into 
French by Moris. Baudouin) coming by chance, as two of his 
best friends were fighting in duel, he did his endeavour to part 
them ; and putting himselfe between them, seized, with his left 
hand, upon the hilt of the sword of one of the combatants, 
while, with his right hand, he laid hold of the blade of the 
other. They, being transported with fury one against the 
other, struggled to rid themselves of the hindrance their friend 



273 



made/ that they should not kill one another ; and one of them 
roughly drawing the blade of his sword, cuts to the very bone 
the nerves and muscles of Mr Howel's hand ; and then the 
other disengaged his hilts, and gave a crosse blow on his ad- 
versaries head, which glanced towards his friend, who heaving 
up his sore hand to save the blow, he was wounded on the 
back of his hand as he had been before within. It seems 
some strange constellation reigned then against him, that he 
should lose so much bloud by parting two such dear friends, 
who, had they been themselves, would have hazarded both 
their lives to have preserved his : but this unvoluntary effusion 
of bloud by them, prevented that which they shulde have 
drawn one from the other. For they, seeing Mr Howel's face 
besmeared with bloud, by heaving up his wounded hand, they 
both run to embrace him ; and, having searched his hurts, 
they bound up his hand with one of his garters, to close the 
veins which were cut, and bled abundantly. They brought 
him home, and sent for a surgeon. But this being heard at 
court, the king sent one of his own surgeons ; for his majesty 
much affected the said Mr Howel. 

" It was my chance to be lodged hard by him ; and four or 
five days after, as I was making myself ready, he came to my 
house, and prayed me to view his wounds ; * for I under- 
stand,' said he, ' that you have extraordinary remedies on 
such occasions, and my surgeons apprehend some fear that it 
may grow to a gangrene, and so the hand must be cut off.' 
In effect, his countenance discovered that he was in much 
S 



274 

pain, which he said was insupportable, in regard of the ex- 
tream inflammation. I told him I would willingly serve him ; 
but if haply he knew the manner how I would cure him, 
without touching or seeing him, it may be he would not expose 
himself to my manner of curing, because he would think it, 
peradventure, either ineffectual, or superstitious. He replied, 
' The wonderfull things which many have related unto me of 
your way of medicinement, makes me nothing doubt at all of 
its efficacy ; and all that I have to say unto you is compre- 
hended in the Spanish proverb, Hagase el milagro y hagalo 
Mahoma, let the miracle be done, though Mahomet do it.' 

" I asked him then for any thing that had the bloud upon 
it; so he presently sent for his garter, wherewith his hand 
was first bound ; and as I called for a bason of water, as if I 
would wash my hands, I took a handful of powder of vitriol, 
which I had in my study, and presently dissolved it. As soon 
as the bloudy garter was brought me, I put it within the ba- 
son, observing, in the interim, what Mr Howel did, who stood 
talking with a gentleman in a corner of my chamber, not re- 
garding at all what I was doing ; but he started suddenly, as if 
he had found some strange alteration in himself. I asked 
him what he ailed ? ' I know not what ailes me; but I finde 
that I feel no more pain. Methinks that a pleasing kinde of 
freshnesse, as it were a wet cold napkin, did spread over my 
hand, which hath taken away the inflammation that torment- 
ed me before.' I replyed, i Since then that you feel already 
so good effect of my medicament, I advise you to cast away 



275 



all your playsters ; only keep the wound clean, and in a mo* 
derate temper betwixt heat and cold/ This was presently 
reported to the Duke of Buckingham, and a little after to the 
king, who were both very curious to know the circumstance of 
the businesse, which was, that after dinner I took the garter 
out of the water, and put it to dry before a great fire. It was 
scarce dry, but Mr Howel's servant came running, that his 
master felt as much burning as ever he had done, if not more ; 
for the heat was such as if his hand were twixt coles of fire. 
I answered, although that had happened at present, yet he 
should find ease in a short time ; for I knew the reason of this 
new accident, and would provide accordingly ; for his master 
should be free from that inflammation, it may be before he 
could" possibly return to him t but in case he found no ease, I 
wished him to come presently back again; if not, he might 
forbear coming. Thereupon he went ; and at the instant I 
did put again the garter into the water, thereupon he found 
his master without any pain at all. To be brief, there was no 
sense of pain afterward ; but within five or six dayes the 
wounds were cicatrized, and entirely healed." p. 6. 

The king (James VI.) obtained from Sir Kenelm the disco- 
very of his secret, which he pretended had been taught him 
by a Carmelite friar, who had learned it in Armenia, or Persia. 
Let not the age of animal magnetism and metallic tractors 
smile at the sympathetic powder of Sir Kenelm Digby. Re- 
ginald Scot mentions the same mode of cure in these terms : 
" And that which is more strange .... they can reraedie anie 



276 

stranger with that verie sword wherewith they are wounded. 
Yea, and that which is beyond all admiration, if they stroke 
the sword upward with their fingers, the par tie shall feele no 
pain ; whereas, if they draw their fingers downward s, there- 
upon the partie wounded shall feele intolerable pain." I pre- 
sume that the success ascribed to the sympathetic mode of 
treatment might arise from the pains bestowed in washing 
the wound, and excluding the air, thus bringing on a cure 
by the first intention. It is introduced by Dryden in the 
Enchanted Island, a (very unnecessary) alteration of the Tem- 
pest : 



Ariel. Anoint the sword which pierced him with this 
Weapon-salve, and wrap it close from air, 
Till I have time to visit him again.— Act v. sc. 2. 



Again, in scene 4th, Miranda enters with Hippolito's sword 
wrapt up : 



Hip. O my wound pains me. [She unwraps the sword. 

Mir. I am come to ease you. 

Hip. Alas, I feel the cold air come to me ; 
My wound shoots worse than ever. 

Mir. Does it still grieve you ? 

[She wipes and anoints the sword. 

Hip. Now, methinks, there's something laid just upon it. 

Mir. Do you find no ease ? 

Hip. Yes, yes ; upon the sudden all this pain 
Is leaving me. Sweet heaven, how I am eased ! 



977 



On Penchryst glows a bale oj fire, 

And three are kindling on Priest haughswire. 

St. XXVII. p. 93. 
The Border beacons, from their number and position, form- 
ed a sort of telegraphic communication with Edinburgh. — The 
act of parliament 1455, c. 48, directs that one bale or faggot 
shall be warning of the approach of the English in any man- 
ner; two bales, that they are coming indeed; four bales, 
blazing beside each other, that the enemy are in great force. 
" The same taikenings to be watched and maid at Eggerhope 
Castell, fra they se the fire of Hume, that they fire right swa. 
And in like manner on Sowtra Edge, sail se the fire of Egger- 
hope Castell, and mak taikening in like manner: And then 
may all Louthiane be warned, and in special the Castell of 
Edinburgh; and their four fires to be made in like maner, that 
they in Fife, and fra Striveling east, and the east part of Lou- 
thiane, and to Dunbar, all may se them, and come to the de- 
fense of the realme." These beacons (at least in latter times) 
were " a long and strong tree set up, with a long iron pole 
across the head of it, and an iron brander fixed on a stalk in 
the middle of it, for holding a tar-barrel." — Stevenson's His- 
tory, Vol. II. p. 701. 

Our kin, and clan, and friends, to raise. 

St. XXVII. p. 93. 
The speed with which the Borderers collected great bodies 
of horse, may be judged of from the following extract, when 



278 



the subject of the rising was much less important than that 
supposed in the romance. It is taken from Carey's Memoirs : 

" Upon the death of the old Lord Scroop, the. queen gave 
the west wardenry to his son, that had married my sister. He, 
having received that office, came to me with great earnestness, 
and desired me to be his deputy, offering me that I should live 
with him in his house ; that he would allow me half a dozen 
men, and as many horses, to be kept at his charge ; and his 
fee being 1000 marks yearly, he would part it with me, and I 
should have the half. This his noble offer I accepted of, and 
went with him to Carlisle; where I was no sooner come, but I 
entered into my office. We had a stirring time of it ; and few 
dayes past over my head but I was on horseback, either to 
prevent mischief, or take malefactors, and to bring the Border 
in better quiet than it had been in times past. One memora- 
ble thing, of God's mercy shewed unto me, was such as I have 
good cause still to remember it. 

" I had private intelligence given me, that there were two 
Scottish men, that had killed a churchman in Scotland, and 
were by one of the Grames relieved. This Grame dwelt 
within five miles of Carlisle. He had a pretty house, and close 
by it a strong tower, for his own defence in time of need.— r 
About two o'clock in the morning, I took horse in Carlisle, and 
not above twenty-five in my company, thinking to surprise the 
house on a sudden. Before I could surround the house, the 
two Scots were gotten in the strong tower, and I could see a 
boy riding from the house as fast as his horse could carry him ; 



279 



I little suspecting what it meant. But Thomas Carleton came 
to me presently, and told me, that if I did not presently pre- 
vent it, both myself and all my company would be either slain, 
or taken prisoners. It was strange to me to hear this lan- 
guage. He then said to me, ' Do you see that boy that rideth 
away so fast ? He will be in Scotland within this half hour ; 
and he is gone to let them know, that you are here, and to 
what end you are come, and the small number you have with 
you ; and that if they will make haste, on a sudden they may 
surprise us, and do with us what they please/ Hereupon we 
took advice what was best to be done. We sent notice pre- 
sently to all parts to raise the country, and to come to us with 
all the speed they could; and withal we sent to Carlisle to 
raise the townsmen ; for without foot we could do no good 
against the tower. There we staid some hours, expecting 
more company ; and within short time after the country came 
in on all sides, so that we were quickly between three and four 
hundred horse ; and, after some longer stay, the foot of Gar- 
lisle came to us, to the number of three or four hundred men ; 
whom we presently set to work, to get up to the top of the 
tower, and to uncover the roof; and then some twenty of them 
to fall down together, and by that means to win the tower.— 
The Scots, seeing their present danger, offered to parley, and 
yielded themselves to my mercy. They had no sooner opened 
the iron gate, and yielded themselves my prisoners, but we 
might see 400 horse within a quarter of a mile coming tQ their 
rescue, and to surprise me and my small company ; but of a 



280 



sudden they stayed, and stood at gaze. Then had I more t& 
do than ever; for all our Borderers came crying, with full 
mouths, l Sir, give us leave to set upon them ; for these are 
they that have killed our fathers, our brothers, and uncles, and 
our cousins ; and they are coming, thinking to surprise you, 
upon weak grass nags, such as they could get on a sudden ; 
and God hath put them into your hands, that we may take re- 
venge of them for much blood that they have spilt of ours/ I 
desired they would be patient a while, and bethought myself, 
if I should give them their will, there would be few or none of 
the Scots that would escape unkilled (there w r ere so many 
deadly feuds among them) ; and therefore I resolved with my- 
self to give them a fair answer, but not to give them their de- 
sire. So I told them, that if I were not there myself, they 
might then do what pleased themselves ; but being present, if 
I should give them leave, the blood that should be spilt that 
day would lie very hard upon my conscience. And therefore 
I desired them, for my sake, to forbear ; and, if the Scots did 
not presently make away with all the speed they could, upon 
my sending to them, they should then have their wills to do 
what they pleased. They were ill satisfied with my answer, 
but durst not disobey. I sent with speed to the Scots, and 
bade them pack away with all the speed they could ; for if 
they stayed the messenger's return, they should few of them re- 
turn to their own home. They made no stay; but they were 
turned homewards before the messenger had made an end of 
his message. Thus, by God's mercy, I escaped a great dan- 



1 



ger ; and, by my means, there were a great many men's lives 
saved that day." 

On many a cairn 's gray pyramid. 
Where urns of mighty chiefs lie hid. 

St. XXIX. p. 95. 
The cairns, or piles of loose stone, which crown the summit 
of most of our Scottish hills, and are found in other remark- 
able situations, seem usually, though not universally, to have 
been sepulchral monuments. Six flat stones are commonly 
found in the centre, forming a cavity of greater or smaller di- 
mensions, in which an urn is often placed. The author is pos- 
sessed of one, discovered beneath an immense cairn at Rough- 
lee, in Liddesdale. It is of the most barbarous construction ; 
the middle of the substance alone having been subjected to the 
fire, over which, when hardened, the artist had laid an inner 
and outer coat of unbaked clay, etched with some very rude 
ornaments ; his skill apparently being inadequate to baking the 
vase, when completely finished. The contents were bones and 
ashes, and a quantity of beads made of coal. This seems to 
have been a barbarous imitation of the Roman fashion of se- 
pulture. 



NOTES 



ON 



CANTO IV. 



Great Dundee.' — St. II. p. 102. 
The Viscount of Dundee, slain in the battle of Killycrankie. 

For pathless marsh, and mountain cell, 

The peasant left his lowly shed. — St. III. p. 103. 
The morasses were the usual refuge of the Border herds- 
men, on the approach of an English army. — (Minstrelsy of the 
Scottish Border, Vol. 'I. p. 49.) Caves, hewed in the most dan* 
gerous and inaccessible places, also afforded an occasional 
retreat. Such caverns may be seen in the precipitous banks 
of the Teviot at Sunlaws and Ancram, upon the Jed at Hun-r 
idalee, and in many other places upon the Border. The banks 



284 



of the Eske, at Gorton and Hawthornden, are hollowed into 
similar recesses. But even these dreary dens were not always 
secure places of concealment. " In the way as we came, not 
far from this place (Long Niddry), George Ferres, a gentle- 
man of my Lord Protector's happened upon a cave in 

the grounde, the mouth whereof was so worne with the fresh 
printe of steps, that he seemed to be certayne thear wear sum 
folke within ; and gone douue to trie, he was redily receyved 
with a hakebut or two. He left them not yet, till he had 
knowen wheyther thei wold be content to yeld and come out, 
which they fondly refusing, he went to my lorde's grace, and 
upon utterance of the thynge, gat lisence to deale with them 
as he coulde ; and so returned to them, with a skore or two of 
pioners. Three ventes had their cave, that we wear ware of, 
wherof he first stopt up on ; anoother he fil'd ful of strawe, and 
set it a fyer, whereat they within cast water apace ; but it was 
so wel maynteyned without, that the fyer prevayled, and thei 
within fayn to get them belyke into anoother parler. Then 
devised we (for I hapt to be with hym) to stop the same up, 
whereby we should eyther smoother them or fynd out their 
ventes, if thei hadde any moe : as this was done at another 
issue, about xii score of, we moughte see the fume of their 
smoke to come out; the which continued with so great a 
force, and so long a while, that we could not but thinke they 
must needs get them out, or smoother within : and forasmuch 
as we found not that they dyd the tone, we thought it for 
certain thei wear sure of the toother." — Patten's Account of 



285 



Somerset's Expedition into Scotland, apud Dalyell's Frag- 
ments. 

Southern ravage. — St. III. p. 103. 

From the following fragment of a letter from the Earl of 
Northumberland to King Henry VIII., preserved among the 
Cotton MSS. Calig. B. vii. 179, the reader may estimate the 
nature of the dreadful war which was occasionally waged upon 
the Borders, sharpened by mutual cruelties, and the personal 
hatred of the wardens, or leaders. 

Some Scottish barons, says the earl, had threatened to come 
within " thre miles of. my pore house of Werkworth, where I 
lye, and gif me light to put on my clothes at mydnyght; and 
alsoo the said Marke Carr said there opynly, that seyng they 
had a governor on the marches of Scotland, as well as they 
haid in Ingland, he shulde kepe yonr highnes instructions, gyf- 
fyn unto your garyson, for making of any day-forrey; for he 
and his friends wolde burne enough on the nyght, lettyng your 
counsaill here defyne a notable acte at theyre pleasures. Up- 
on whiche, in your highnes' name, I comaundet dewe watche 
to be kepte on your marchies, for comyng in of any Scotts. 
— Neutheless, upon Thursday at night last, came thyrty light 
horsemen into a litil village of myne, called Whitell, having 
not past sex houses, lying toward Ryddisdaill, upon Shiibotell 
more, and ther wold have fyred the said howses, but ther was 
noo fyre to get there, and they forgate to brynge any withe 
theyme ; and toke a wyf, being great with chylde, in the said 



286 



towne, and said to hyr, Wher we can not gyve the lard lyght r 
yet we shall doo this in spyte of hym ; and gyve hyr iii mor- 
tal! wounds upon the heid, and another in the right side, with 
a dagger : wheruppon the said wyf is deede, and the childe in 
her bely is loste. Beseeching your most gracious highnes to 
reduce unto your gracious memory this wylful and shamefull 
murder, done within this your highnes' realme, notwithstand- 
ing all the inhabitants thereabout rose unto the said fray, and 
gave warnynge by becons unto the countrey afore theyme, and 
yet the Scottsmen dyde escape. And uppon certeyne know- 
ledge to my brother Clyfforthe and me, had by credable per- 
sons of Scotland, this abomynable act not only to be done by 
dyverse of the Mershe, but also the afore named persons of 
Tyvidaill, and consented to, as by appearance, by the Erie of 
Murey, upon Friday at night last, let slyp C of the best horse- 
men of Glendaill, with a part of your highnes' subjects of Ber- 
wyke, together with George Dowglas, whoo came into Ingland 
agayne, in the dawning of the day ; but afore theyre retorne, 
they dyd mar the Earl of Murrei's provisions at Coldingham : 
for they did not only burne the said town of Coldingham, with 
all the corne thereunto belonging, which is esteemed wurthe 
cii marke sterling ; but alsoo burned twa townes nye adjoin- 
ing thereunto, called Branerdergest and the Black Hill, and 
toke xxiiii persons, lx horse, with cc hed of cataill, which 
nowe, as I am informed, hathe not only been a staye of the 
said Erie of Murrei's not coming to the bordure as yet, but al- 
soo, that none inlande man will adventure theyre selfs uppon 



287 



the marches. And as for the tax that shulde have been graun- 
tyd for finding of the said iii hundred men, is utterly denyed. 
Upon which the King of Scotland departed from Edynburgh to 
Stirling, and as yet ther doth remayn. And alsoo I, by the ad- 
vice of my brother ClyrForth, have devysed that within this iii 
nyghts, Godde willing, Kelsey, in lyke case, shall be brent, with 
all the come in the said town ; and then they shall have noo 
place to lye any garyson in, nygh unto the borders. And as I 
shall atteigne further knawledge, I shall not faill to satisfye 
your highness, according to my most bounden dutie. And for 
this burnyng of Kelsey is devysed to be done secretly, by Tyn- 
daill and Ryddisdale. And thus the holy Trynite and*** 
your most royal estate, with long lyf, and as much increase of 
honour as your most noble heart can desire. At Werkworth, 
the xxiid day of October." (1522.) 

Watt Tinlinn.—St. IV. p. 103. 
This person was, in my younger days, the theme of many a 
fireside tale. He was a retainer of the Buccleuch family, and 
held for his Border service a small tower on the frontiers of 
Liddesdale. Watt was, by profession, a sutor, but, by inclina- 
tion and practice, an archer and warrior. Upon one occasion, 
the captain of Bewcastle, military governor of that wild dis- 
trict of Cumberland, is said to have made an incursion into 
Scotland, in which he was defeated, and forced to fly. Watt 
Tinlinn pursued him closely through a dangerous morass : the 



288 



captain, however, gained the firm ground : and seeing Tinlinn 
dismounted, and floundering in the bog, used these words of 
insult; " Sutor Watt, ye cannot sew your boots; the heels risp, 
and the seams rive"* — " If I cannot sew," — retorted Tinlinn, 
discharging a shaft, which nailed the captain's thigh to his sad- 
dle, — u If I cannot sew, I can yerk"\. 

Bilhope Stag.— St. V. p. 104. 
There is an old rhyme, which thus celebrates the places in 
Liddesdale, remarkable for game : 



Bilhope braes for bucks and raes, 
And Carit haugh for swine, 

And Tarras for the good bull-trout. 
If he be ta'en in time. 



The bucks and roes, as well as the old swine, are now ex- 
tinct ; but the good bull-trout is still famous. 

Of silver broach and bracelet proud. — St. V. p. 104. 
As the Borderers were indifferent about the furniture of 
their habitations, so much exposed to be burned and plunder- 
ed, they were proportionally anxious to display splendour in 
decorating and ornamenting their females. — See Lesly de Mo- 
ribus Limitaneorum. 



* Risp, creak.— Rive, tear. 

t Yerk, to twitch, as shoemakers do, in securing the stitches of 
their work. 



c 2$9 



Belted Will Howard.— St. VI. p. 105. 
Lord William Howard, third son of Thomas, duke of Nor- 
folk, succeeded to Naworth Castle, and a large domain annex- 
ed to it, in right of his wife Elizabeth, sister of George Lord 
Dacre, who died without heirs male, in the 11th of Queen 
Elizabeth; By a poetical anachronism, he is introduced into 
the romance a few years earlier than he actually flourished. 
He was warden of the Western Marches; and, from the rigour 
with which he repressed the Border excesses, the name of 
Belted Will Howard is still famous in our traditions. In the 
castle of Naworth, his apartments, containing a bed-room, ora- 
tory, and library, are still shewn. They impress us with an 
unpleasing idea of the life of a lord warden of the marches. — 
Three or four strong doors, separating these rooms from the 
rest of the castle, indicate apprehensions of treachery from 
his garrison ; and the secret winding passages, through which 
he could privately descend into the guard-room, or even into 
the dungeons, imply the necessity of no small degree of secret 
superintendence on the part of the governor. As the ancient 
books and furniture have remained undisturbed, the venera- 
ble appearance of these apartments, and the armour scattered 
around the chamber, almost lead us to expect the arrival of the 
warden in person. Naworth Castle is situated near Brampton, 
in Cumberland. Lord William Howard is ancestor of the 
Earls of Carlisle. 



290 



Lord Dacre.— St. VI. p. 105. 
The well-known name of Dacre is derived from the exploits 
of one of their ancestors at the siege of Acre, or Ptolemais, un- 
der Richard Coeur de Lion. There were two powerful branches 
of that name. The first family, called Lord Dacres of the 
South, held the castle of the same name, and are ancestors to 
the present Lord Dacre. The other family, descended from 
the same stock, were called Lord Dacres of the North, and 
were barons of Gilsland and Graystock. A chieftain of the 
latter branch was warden of the West Marches during the 
reign of Edward VI. He was a man of a hot and obstinate 
character, as appears from some particulars of Lord Surrey's 
letter to Henry VIII,, giving an account of his behaviour at the 
siege and storm of Jedburgh. It is printed in the Minstrelsy 
of the Scottish Border, Appendix to the Introduction. 

The German hagbut-men. — St. VI. p. 105. 
In the wars with Scotland, Henry VIII. and his successors 
employed numerous bands of mercenary troops. At the bat- 
tle of Pinky there were in the English army six hundred hack- 
butters on foot, and two hundred on horseback, composed 
chiefly of foreigners. On the 27th September, 1549, the Duke 
of Somerset, Lord Protector, writes to the Lord Dacre, war- 
den of the West Marches : " The Almains, in number two 
thousand, very valiant soldiers, shall be sent to you shortly 
from Newcastle, together with Sir Thomas Holcroft, and with 
the force of your wardenry (which we would were advanced 



291 



to the most strength of horsemen that might be), shall make 
the attempt to Loughmaben, being of no such strength but that 
it may be skailed with ladders, whereof, beforehand, we would 
you caused secretly some number to be provided ; or else un- 
dermined with the pyke-axe, and so taken : either to be kept 
for the king's majesty, or otherwise to be defaced, and taken 
from the profits of the enemy. And in like manner the house 
of Carlaverock to be used." Repeated mention occurs of the. 
Almains, in the subsequent correspondence ; and the enter- 
prise seems finally to have been abandoned, from the difficulty 
of providing these strangers with the necessary " victuals and 
carriages in so poor a country as Dumfries-shire." History of 
Cumberland, Vol. I. Introd. p. lxi. From the battle-pieces of 
the ancient Flemish painters, we learn that the Low-Country 
and German soldiers marched to an assault with their right 
knees bared. And we may also observe, in such pictures, the 
extravagance to which they carried the fashion of ornamenting 
their dress with knots of ribband. This custom of. the Ger- 
mans is alluded to in the Mirrour for Magistrates, p. 121. 

Their pleited garments therewith well accord, 
All jagde and frounst, with divers colours deckt. 

His ready lances Thirlestane brave 
Arrayed beneath a banner bright. — St. VIII. p. 107. 
Sir John Scott of Thirlstaine flourished in the reign of 
James V., and possessed the estates of Thirlestaine, Games- 
cleuch, &c. lying upon the river of Ettricke, and extending to 



292 



St Mary's Loch, at the head of Yarrow. It appears, that when 
James had assembied his nobility, and their feudal followers, 
at Fala, with the purpose of invading England, and was, as is 
well known, disappointed by the obstinate refusal of his peers, 
this baron alone declared himself ready to follow the king 
wherever he should lead. In memory of his fidelity, James 
granted to his family a charter of arms, entitling them to bear 
a border of fleurs-de-luce, similar to the tressure in the royal 
arms, with a bundle of spears for the crest; motto, Ready, aye 
ready. The charter itself is printed by Nisbet; but his work 
being scarce, I insert the following accurate transcript from 
the original, in the possession of the Right Honourable Lord 
Napier, the representative of John of Thirlestaine. 

" James Rex. 
" We James, be the grace of God King of Scottis, consider- 
and the ffaith and guid servis of of of* right traist friend John 
Scott of Thirlestane, quha cummand to our hoste at Soutra 
Edge, with three score and ten launcieres on horsback of his 
friends and followers, and beand willing to gang with ws into 
England, when all our nobles and others refuised, he was read- 
dy to stake all at our bidding ; ffor the quhilk cause, it is our 
will, and we doe straitlie command and charg our lion herauld, 
and his deputies for the time beand, to give and to graunt to 
the said John Scott, ane Border of ffleure de lises about his 

* Sic. in orig. 



293 



coatte of armes, sik as is on our royal banner, and alsua ane 
bundell of launces above his helmet, with thir words, Readdy, 
ay Readdy, that he and all his aftercummers may bruik the 
samine, as a pledge and taiken of our guid will and kyndnes 
for his true worthines ; and thir our letters seen, ye nae wayes 
failzie to doe. Given at Ffalla Muire, under our hand and 
privy cashet, the xxvii day of July, mc and xxxii zeires. By the 
King's graces speciall ordinance. 

" Jo. Arskine. 

On the back of the charter, is written, 
Edin. 14. January, 1713. Registred, conform to the act of 
parliament made anent probative writs, per M'Kaile, pror. and 
produced by Alexander Borthwick, servant to Sir William 
Scott of Thirlestane. M. L. J." 

An aged knight, to danger steeled, 

With many a moss-trooper, came on ; 
And azure in a golden field. 
The stars and crescent graced his shield. 

Without the bend of Murdieston. — St. IX. p. 108. 
The family of Harden are descended from a younger son of 
the laird of Buccleuch, who flourished before the estate of 
Murdieston was acquired by the marriage of one of those 
chieftains with the heiress, in 1296. Hence they bear the cog- 
nizance of the Scotts upon the field ; whereas those of the 
Buccleuch are disposed upon a bend dexter, assumed in con- 



294 



sequence of that marriage. — See Gladstaine of Whitelazce's 
MSS. and Scott o/Stokoe's Pedigree, Newcastle, 1783. 

Walter Scott of Harden, who flourished during the reign of 
Queen Mary, was a renowned Border free-booter, concerning 
whom tradition has preserved a variety of anecdotes, some of 
which have been published in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish 
Border, and others in Leyden's Scenes of Infancy. The bugle 
horn, said to have been used by this formidable leader, is pre- 
served by his descendant, the present Mr Scott of Harden. — 
His castle was situate upon the very brink of a dark and pre- 
cipitous dell, through which a scanty rivulet steals to meet the 
Borthwick. In the recess of this glen he is said to have kept 
his spoil, which served for the daily maintenance of his re- 
tainers, until the production of a pair of clean spurs, in a co- 
vered dish, announced to the hungry band, that they must ride 
for a supply of provisions. He was married to Mary Scott, 
daughter of Philip Scott of Dryhope, and called in song the 
Flower of Yarrow. He possessed a very extensive estate, 
which was divided among his five sons. There are numerous 
descendants of this old marauding Baron. The following 
beautiful passage of Leyden's Scenes of Infancy, is founded 
on a tradition respecting an infant captive, whom Walter of 
Harden carried off in a predatory incursion, and who is said to 
have become the author of some of our most beautiful pastoral 
songs. 



9.95 

Where Bortha hoarse, that loads the meads with sand, 
Rolls her red tide to Teviot's western strand, 
Through slaty hills, whose sides are shagged with thorn, 
Where springs, in scattered tufts, the dark-green corn, 
Towers wood-girt Harden, far above the vale, 
And clouds of ravens o'er the turrets sail. 
A hardy race, who never shrunk from war, 
The Scott, to rival realms a mighty bar, 
Here fixed his mountain-home ; — a wide domain, 
And rich the soil, had purple heath been grain ; 
But, what the niggard ground of wealth denied, 
From fields more blessed his fearless arm supplied. 

The waning harvest-moon shone cold and bright ; 
The warder's horn was heard at dead of night; 
And, as the massy portals wide were flung, 
With stamping hoofs the rocky pavement rung. 
What fair, half-veiled, leans from her latticed hall, 
Where red the wavering gleams of torch-light fall ? 
'Tis Yarrow's fairest Flower, who, through the gloom, 
Looks, wistful, for her lover's dancing plume. 
Amid the piles of spoil, that strewed the ground, 
Her ear, all anxious, caught a wailing sound ; 
With trembling haste the youthful matron flew, 
And from the hurried heaps an infant drew. 

Scared at the light, his little hands he flung 
Around her neck, and to her bosom clung ; 
While beauteous Mary soothed, in accents mild, 
His fluttering soul, and clasped her foster child. 
Of milder mood the gentle captive grew, 
Nor loved the scenes that scared his infant view; 
In vales remote, from camps and castles far, 
He shunned the fearful shuddering joy of war; 
Content the loves of simple swains to sing, 
Or wake to fame the harp's heroic string. 



296 



His are the strains, whose wandering echoes thrill 
The shepherd, lingering on the twilight hill, 
When evening brings the rnerry folding hours, 
And sun-eyed daisies close their winking flowers. 
He lived, o'er Yarrow's Flower to shed the tear, 
To strew the holly leaves o'er Harden's bier; 
But none was found above the minstrel's tomb, 
Emblem of peace, to bid the daisy bloom : 
He, nameless as the race from which he sprung, 
Saved other names, and left his own unsuug. 



Scotts of Eskdale, a stalwart band. — St. X, p. 109. 
In this, and the following stanzas, some account is given of 
the mode in which the property of the valley of Esk was trans- 
ferred from the Beattisons, its ancient possessors, to the name 
of Scott. It is needless to repeat the circumstances, which 
are given in the poem, literally as they have been preserved 
by tradition. Lord Maxwell, in the latter part of the six- 
teenth century, took upon himself the title of Earl of Morton. 
The descendants of Beattison of Woodkerricke, who aided the 
earl to escape from his disobedient vassals, continued to hold 
these lands within the memory of man, and were the only 
Beattisons who had property in the dale. The old people give 
locality to the story, by showing the Galliard's haugh, the 
place where Buccleugh's men were left, &c. 



Their gathering u-ord was Bellenden. — St. XIII. p. 114. 
Bellenden is situated near the head of Borthwick water, and, 
being in the centre of the possession of the Scotts, was fre- 



m 



quently used as their place of rendezvous and gathering word. 
— Survey of Selkirkshire, in Macfarlanes MSS., Advocates' 
Library. Hence Satchells calls one part of his genealogical 



The camp their home, their law the sword, 
They knew no country, owned no lord. — St. XVIII. p. 119. 
The mercenary adventurers, whom, in 1380, the Earl of 
Cambridge carried to the assistance of the King of Portugal 
against the Spaniards, mutinied for want of regular pay. At an 
assembly of their leaders, Sir John Soltier, a uatural son of Ed- 
ward the Black Prince, thus addressed them : " I counsayle, 
let us be alle of one alliance, and of one accorde, and let us 
among ourselves reyse up the baner of St George, and let us be 
frendes to God, and enemyes to alle the worlde ; for without 
we make ourselfe to be feared, we gette nothynge." 

" By my fayth," quod Sir William Helmon, " ye saye right 
well, and so let us do." They all agreed with one voyce, 
and so regarded among them who shulde be their capitayne. 
Then they advysed in the case how they coude nat have a bet- 
ter capitayne than Sir John Soltier. For they sulde than have 
good leyser to do yvell, and they thought he was more mete- 
Iyer therto than any other. Than they raised up the penon of 
St George, and cried, " A Soltier ! a Soltier ! the valyaunt 
bastarde ! frendes to God, and enemies to all the worlde V — 
Froissart, Vol. I. ch. 393. 



£98 



A gauntlet on a spear. — St. XXI. p. 122. 
A glove upon a lance was the emblem of faith among the 
ancient Borderers, who were wont, when any one broke his 
word, to expose this emblem, and proclaim him a faithless vil- 
lain at the first Border meeting. This ceremony was much 
dreaded. See Lesly. 

We claim from thee William of Deloraine, 

That he may suffer march-treason pain. 

St. XXIV. p. 124. 
Several species of offences, peculiar to the Border, constitu- 
ted what was called march-treason. Among others, was the 
crime of riding, or causing to ride, against the opposite coun- 
try during the time of truce. Thus, in an indenture made at 
the water of Eske, beside Salom, the 25th day of March, 1334, 
betwixt noble Lords and mighty, Sirs Henry Percy, Earl of 
Northumberland, and Archbald of Douglas, Lord ofGaloway, 
a truce is agreed upon until the 1st day of July ; and it, is ex- 
pressly accorded, " Gif ony stellis authir on the ta part, or on 
the tothyr, that he shall be henget or heofdit ; and gif ony 
cumpany stellis any gudes wthin the trieux beforesayd, ane of 
that company sail be henget or heofdit, and the remanent sail 
restore the gudys stollen in the dubble." — History of West- 
moreland and Cumberland, Introd. p. xxxix. 



c m 



•William of Deloraine 



Will cleanse him, by oath, of march-treason stain. 

St. XXVI. p. 126. 
In dubious cases, the innocence of Border-criminals was oc- 
casionally referred to their own oath. The form of excusing 
bills, or indictments, by Border-oath, ran thus : " You shall 
swear by heaven above you, hell beneath you, by your part of 
Paradise, by all that God made in six days and seven nights, 
and by God himself, you are whart out sackless of art, part, 
way, witting, ridd, kenning, having, or recetting of any of the 
goods and cattels named in this bill. So help you God." — 
History of Cumberland, Introd. p. xxv. 

Knighthood he took of Douglas' sword. — St. XXVI. p. 126. 

The dignity of knighthood, according to the original institu- 
tion, had this peculiarity, that it did not flow from the mo- 
narch, but could be conferred by one who himself possessed 
it, upon any squire who, after due probation, was found to me- 
rit the honour of chivalry. Latterly, this power was confined 
to generals, who were wont to create knights bannerets after 
or before an engagement. Even so late as the reign of Queen 
Elizabeth, Essex highly offended his jealous sovereign by the 
indiscriminate exertion of this privilege. Amongst others, he 
knighted the witty Sir John Harrington, whose favour at court 
was by no means enhanced by his new honours. — See the Nu- 
gae, Antique, edited by Mr Park. But probably the latest in- 
stance of knighthood, conferred by a subject, was in the case 
4 



300 



of Thomas Ker, knighted by the Earl of Huntley, after the 
defeat of the Earl of Argyle in the battle of Belrinnes. The 
fact is attested, both by a poetical and prose account of the 
engagement, contained in a MS. in the Advocates' Library, 
and lately edited by Mr Dalyell, in Godly Sangs and Ballets, 
Edin. 1802. 



When English blood swelled Ancramford. 

St. XXVT. p. 126. 
The battle of Ancram Moor, or Peniel-heuch, was fought 
A. D. 1545. The English, commanded by Sir Ralph Evers, 
and Sir Brian Latoun, were totally routed, and both their lead- 
ers slain in the action. The Scottish army was commanded 
by Archibald Douglas, Earl of Angus, assisted by the laird of 
Buccleuch and Norman Lesly. 

The blanche lion.— St. XXX. p. 130. 
This was the cognisance of the noble house of Howard in all 
its branches. The crest, or bearing, of a warrior, was often 
used as a nomine de guerre. Thus Richard III. acquired his 
well-known epithet, the Boar of York. In the violent satire 
on Cardinal Wolsey, commonly, but erroneously, imputed to 
Dr Bull, the Duke of Buckingham is called the Beautiful Swan, 
and the Duke of Norfolk, or Earl of Surrey, the White Lion. 
As the book is extremely rare, and the whole passage relates 
to the emblematical interpretation of heraldry, it shall be here 
given at length. 



301 

The Description of the Armes. 

Of the proud Cardmail this is the shelde, 
Borne up betwene two angels of Sathan ; 
The sixe blouddy axes in a bare felde, 
Sheweth the cruelte of the red man, 
Which hath devoured the Beautifull Swan, 
Mortall enemy unto the Whyte Lion, 
Carter of Yorke, the vyle butcher's sonne. 



The six bulles heddes in a felde blacke, 
Betokeneth his stordy furiousnes, 
Wherfore, the godly Jyght to put abacke, 
He bryngeth in his dyvhsh darcnes ; 
The bandog in the middes doth expresse 
The mastif curre bred in Ypswich towne, 
Gnawynge with his teth a kinges crowne. 

The cloubbe signifieth playne his tiranny, 
Covered over with a Cardinal's hatt, 
Wherein shall be fulfilled the prophecy, 
Aryse up Jacke, and put on thy salatt, 
For the tyrae is come of bagge and walatt. 
The temporal! chevalry thus throwen doune, 
Wherfor prest take hede, and beware thy crowne. 



There are two copies of this very scarce satire in the library 
of the late John, Duke of Roxburghe. 

Let Musgrave meet fierce Deloraine 

In single fight. -St. XXX. p. 130. 

It may easily be supposed, that trial by single combat, so pe- 



302 



culiar to the feudal system, was common on the Borders. The 
following indenture will shew at how late a period it was there 
resorted to, as a proof of guilt or innocence. 

" It is agreed between Thomas Musgrave and Lancelot 
Carleton, for the true trial of such controversies as are be- 
twixt them, to have it openly tried, by way of combat, before 
God and the face of the world, to try it in Canonby -holme, be- 
fore England and Scotland, upon Thursday in Easter-week, be- 
ing the eight day of April next ensuing, A. D. 1602, betwixt 
nine of the clock, and one of the same day, to fight on foot, to 
be armed with jack, steel cap, plaite sleeves, plaite breeches, 
plaite sockes, two baslaerd swords, the blades to be one yard 
and half a quarter of length, two Scotch daggers, or dorks, at 
their girdles, and either of them to provide armour and wea- 
pons for themselves, according to this indenture. Two gen- 
tlemen to be appointed, on the field, to view both the parties, 
to see that they both be equal in arms and weapons, accord- 
ing to this indenture ; and being so viewed by the gentlemen, 
the gentlemen to ride to the rest of the company, and to leave 
them but two boys, viewed by the gentlemen, to be under 16 
years of age, to hold their horses. In testimony of this our 
agreement, we have both set our hands to this indenture, of 
intent all matters shall be made so plain, as there shall be no 
question to stick upon that day. Which indenture, as a wit- 
ness, shall be delivered to two gentlemen. And for that it is 
convenient the world should be privy to every particular of the 



303 



grounds of the quarrel, we have agreed to set it down in this in- 
denture betwixt us, that, knowing the quarrel, their eyes may be 
witness of the trial. 

The Grounds of the Quarrel. 

" 1. Lancelot Carleton did charge Thomas Musgrave before 
the lords of her majesty's privy council, that Lancelot Carleton 
was told by a gentleman, one of her majesty's sworn servants, 
that Thomas Musgrave had offered to deliver her majesty's 
castle of Bewcastle to the king of Scots ; and to witness the 
same, Lancelot Carleton had a letter under the gentleman's own 
hand for his discharge. 

" 2. He chargeth him, that whereas her majesty doth yearly 
bestow a great fee upon him, as captain of Bewcastle, to aid 
and defend her majesty's subjects therein ; Thomas Musgrave 
hath neglected his duty, for that her majesty's castle of Bew- 
castle was by him made a den of thieves, aud an harbour and 
receipt for murderers, felons, and all sorts of misdemeanors. 
The precedent was Quinten Whitehead and Runion Black- 
burne. 

" 3. He chargeth him, that his office of Bewcastle is open for 
the Scotch to ride in and through, and small resistance made by 
him to the contrary. 

" Thomas Musgrave doth deny all this charge ; and saith, that 
he will prove that Lancelot Carleton doth falsely bely him, and 
will prove the same by way of combat, according to this inden- 



304 



ture. Lancelot Carleton hath entertained the challenge ; and 
so, by God's permission, will prove it true as before, and hath 
set his hand to the same. 

(Signed) Thomas Musgrave. 

Lancelot Carleton." 

He, the jovial harper.— St. XXXIV. p. 134. 
The person, here alluded to, is one of our ancient Border 
minstrels, called Rattling Roaring Willie. This soubriquet was 
probably derived from his bullying disposition; being, it would 
seem, such a roaring boy, as is frequently mentioned in old 
plays. While drinking at Newmill, upon Teviot, about five 
miles above Hawick, Willie chanced to quarrel with one of his 
own profession, who was usually distinguished by the odd name 
of Sweet Milk, from a place on Rule water so called. They 
retired to a meadow, on the opposite side of the Teviot, to de- 
cide the contest with their swords, and Sweet Milk was killed 
on the spot. A thorn-tree marks the scene of the murder, 
which is still called Sweet Milk Thorn. Willie was taken and 
executed at Jedburgh, bequeathing his name to the beautiful 
Scotch air, called " Rattling Roaring Willie.' 7 Ramsay, who 
set no value on traditionary lore, published a few verses of this 
song in the Tea Table Miscellany, carefully suppressing all 
which had any connection with the history of the author, and 
origin of the piece. In this case, however, honest Allan is in 
some degree justified, by the. extreme worthlessness of the poe- 



305 



try. A verse or two may be taken, as illustrative of the his- 
tory of Roaring Willie, alluded to in the text. 



Now Willie's gane to Jeddart, 

And he's for the rude-day ; * 
But Stobs and young Falnash, 7 

Tbey followed him a' the way ; 
They followed him a' the way, 

They sought him up and down, 
In the links of Ousenam water, 

They fand him sleeping sound. 



Stobs lighted aff his horse, 

And never a word he spak, 
Till he tied Willie's hands 

Fu' fast behind his back ; 
Fu' fast behind his back, 

And down beneath his knee, 
And drink will be dear to Willie, 

When sweet milk $ gars him die, 

Ah wae light on ye, Stobs ! 

An ill death mot ye die ! 
Ye're the first and foremost man 

That e'er laid hands on me j 
That e'er laid hands on me, 

And took my mare me frae ; 
Wae to you, Sir Gilbert Elliot! 

Ye are my mortal fae ! 



* The day of the Rood-fair at Jedburgh. 

t Sir Gilbert Elliot of Stobs, and Scott of Falnash. 

t A wretched pun on his antagonist's name, 



306 



The lasses of Ousenam water 

Are rugging and riving their hair, 
And a' for the sake of Willie, 

His beauty Avas so fair : 
His beauty was so fair, 

And comely for to see, 
And drink will be dear to Willie, 

When sweet milk gars him die. 

Black Lord Archibald's battle lazos, 

In the old Douglas' day.— St. XXXTV. p. 134. 

The title to the most ancient collection of Border regula- 
tions runs thus : 

" Be it remembered, that, on the 18th day of December, 
1468, Earl William Douglas assembled the whole lords, free- 
holders, and eldest Borderers, that best knowledge had, at the 
college of Linclouden ; and there he caused those lords and 
Borderers bodily to be sworn, the Holy Gospel touched, that 
they justly and truly, after their cunning, should decrete, de^ 
cern, deliver, and put in order and writing, the statutes, ordi- 
nances, and uses of marche, that were ordained in Black Ar- 
chibald of Douglas's days, and Archibald his son's days, in 
time of warfare ; and they came again to him advisedly with 
these statutes and ordinances, which were in time of warfare 
before. The said Earl William, seeing the statutes in writing 
decreed and delivered by the said lords and Borderers, thought 
them right speedful and profitable to the Borders ; the which 
statutes, ordinances, and points of warfare, he took, and the 
whole lords and Borderers he caused bodily to be sworn, that 



307 



they should maintain and supply him at their goodly power, to 
do the law upon those that should break the statutes under- 
written. Also the said Earl William, and lords, and eldest 
Borderers, made certain points to be treason in time of war- 
fare to be used, which were no treason before his time, but to 
be treason in his time, and in all time coming." 



N O T E S 



ON 



CANTO V. 



The Bloody Heart blazed in the van, 
Announcing Douglas, dreaded name ! — St. IV. p. 144. 
The chief of this potent race of heroes, about the date of 
the poem, was Archibald Douglas, seventh Earl of Angus, a 
man of great courage and activity. The Bloody Heart was the 
well-known cognisance of the house of Douglas, assumed from 
the time of Good Lord James, to whose care Robert Bruce 
committed his heart, to be carried to the Holy Land. 

The Seven Spears of Wedderburne. — St. IV. p. 144, 



Sir David Home of Wedderburn, who was slain in the fatal 
battle of Flodden, left seven sons by his wife, Isabel, daughter 
of Hoppringle of Galashiels (now Pringle of Whitebank). They 
were called the Seven Spears of Wedderburne. 



310 



And Szointon laid the lance in rest. 
That tamed of yore the sparkling crest 

Of Clarence's Plantagenet. — St. IV. p. 144. 
At the battle of Bouge in France, Thomas, Duke of Cla- 
rence, brother to Henry V., was unhorsed by Sir John Swinton 
of Swinton, who distinguished him by a coronet set with pre- 
cious stones, which he wore around his helmet. The family 
of Swinton is one of the most ancient in Scotland, and pro- 
duced many celebrated warriors. 

Beneath the crest of old Dunbar, 

And Hepburn's mingled banners, come, 
Dozen the steep mountain glittering far, 
And shouting still, " a Home ! a Home P 

St. IV. p. 145. 
The Earls of Home, as descendants of the D unbars, ancient 
Earls of March, carried a lion rampant, argent ; but, as a dif- 
ference, changed the colour of the shield from gules to vert, in 
allusion to Greenlaw, their ancient possession. The slogan, 
or war-cry, of this powerful family was, " a Home ! a Home !" 
It was anciently placed in an escrol above the crest. The hel- 
met is armed with a lion's head erased gules, with a cap of 
state gules, turned up ermine. 

The Hepburns, a powerful family in East Lothian, were usu- 
ally in close alliance with the Homes. The chief of this clan 
was Hepburn, Lord of Hailes ; a family which terminated in 
the too famous Earl of Bothwell. 



3 



311 



Pursued the foot-ball play. — St. VI. p. 14^. 
The foot-ball was anciently a very favourite sport all through' 
Scotland, but especially upon the Borders. Sir John Carmichael 
of Carmichael, warden of the middle marches, was killed in 
1600 by a band of the Armstrongs, returning from a foot-ball 
match. Sir Robert Carey, in his Memoirs, mentions a great 
meeting, appointed by the Scottish riders, to be held at Kelso, 
for the purpose of playing at foot-ball, but which terminated in 
an incursion upon England. At present, the foot-ball is often 
played by the inhabitants of adjacent parishes, or of the oppo- 
site banks of a stream. The victory is contested with the ut- 
most fury, and very serious accidents have sometimes taken 
place in the struggle. 

'Ttoixt truce and war, such sudden change 
Was not unfrequent, nor held strange, 
In the old Border day.— St. VII. p. 148. 
Notwithstanding the constant wars upon the Borders, and 
the occasional cruelties which marked the mutual inroads, the 
inhabitants on either side do not appear to have regarded each 
other with that violent and personal animosity, which might 
have been expected. On the contrary, like the outposts of hos- 
tile armies, they often carried on something resembling friendly 
intercourse, even in the middle of hostilities ; and it is evident, 
from various ordinances against trade and intermarriages be- 
tween English and Scottish Borderers, that the governments of 
both countries were jealous of their cherishing too intimate a 



312 



connection. Froissart says of both nations, that " Englyshe- 
men on the one party, and Scottes on the other party, are good 
men of warre; for when they meet, there is a harde fight with- 
out sparynge. There is no hoo {truce) between them as longe 
as spears, swords, axes, or daggers, will endure, but lay on eche 
upon uther ; and whan they be well beaten, and that ihe one 
party hath obtained the victory, they than gloryfye so in they re 
dedes of armes, and are so joyfull, that such as be taken they 
shall be ransomed, or that they go out of the felde ; so that 
shortly eche of them is so content with other, that at their de- 
partynge, curtyslye they will say, God thank you." — Berners' 
Froissart,Vo\. II. p. 153. The Border meetings of truce, which, 
although places of merchandise and merriment, often witnessed 
the most bloody scenes, may serve to illustrate the description 
in the text. They are vividly pourtrayed in the old ballad of 
the Reidsquair. Both parties came armed to a meeting of the 
wardens, yet they intermixed fearlessly and peaceably with each 
other in mutual sports and familiar intercourse, until a casual 
fray arose : 



Then was there nought but bow and spear, 
And every man pulled out a brand. 



In the 29th stanza of this Canto, there is an attempt to ex- 
press some of the mixed feelings, with which the Borderers on 
each side were led to regard their neighbours. 



313 



And frequent, on the darkening plain, 

Loud hollo, whoop, or whistle ran; 
As bands, their stragglers to regain, 
Gave the shrill watch-word of their clan. 

St. VIII. p. 149. 
Patten remarks, with bitter censure, the disorderly conduct 
of the English Borderers, who attended the Protector Somer- 
set on his expedition against Scotland. " As we wear then a 
setling, and the tents a setting up, among all things els com- 
mendable in our hole journey, one thing seemed to me an in- 
tollerable disorder and abuse: that whearas allweys, both in 
all tounes of war, and in all campes of armies, quietnes and 
stilnes, without nois, is, principally in the night, after the watch 
is set, observed (I nede not reason why), our northern prik- 
kers, the Borderers, notwithstandyng, with great enormitie (as 
thought me), and not unlike (to be playn) unto a masteries 
hounde howlyng in a hie wey when he hath lost him he wait- 
ed upon, sum hoopynge, sum whistlying, and most with crying, 
A Berwyke, a Berwyke ! A Fenwyke, a Fenwyke ! A Bulmer, 
a Bulmer ! or so otherwise as theyr captains names wear, ne- 
ver lin'de these troublous and dangerous noyses all the nighte 
longe. They said they did it to finde their captain and fellows; 
but if the souldiers of our oother countreys and sheres had 
used the same maner, in that case we shoold have oft tymes 
had the state of our camp more like the outrage of a dissolute 
huntyng, than the quiet of a well ordred armye. It is a feat 
of war, in mine opinion, that might right well be left. I could 



314 



reherse causes (but yf I take it, they are better unspoken than 
uttred, unless the faut wear sure to be amended) that might 
shew thei move alweis more peral to our armie, but in their 
one night's so doynge, than thei shew good service (as sum sey) 
in a hoole vyage." — Apud Dalyell's Fragments, p. 75. 

Cheer the dark blood-hound on his way, 

And with the bugle rouse the fray. 

St. XXIX. p. 169. 
The pursuit of Border marauders was followed by the inju- 
red party and his friends with blood-hounds and bugle-horn, 
and was called the hot-trod. He was entitled, if his dog could 
trace the scent, to follow the invaders into the opposite king- 
dom ; a privilege which often occasioned blood-shed. In ad- 
dition to what has been said of the blood-hound, I may add, 
that the breed was kept up by the Buccleuch family on their 
Border estates till within the 18th century. A person was 
alive in the memory of man, who remembered a blood-hound 
being kept at Eldinhope, in Ettricke Forest, for whose main- 
tenance the tenant had an allowance of meal. At that time 
the sheep were always watched at night. Upon one occasion, 
when the duty had fallen on the narrator, then a lad, he be- 
came exhausted with fatigue, and fell asleep, upon a bank, near 
sun-rising. Suddenly he was awakened by the tread of horses, 
and saw five men, well mounted and armed, ride briskly over 
the edge of the hill. They stopped and looked at the flock ; 
but the day was too far broken to admit the chance of their 



315 



carrying any of them off. One of them, in spite, leaped from 
his horse, and, coming to the shepherd, seized him by the belt 
he wore round his waist ; and, setting his foot upon his body, 
pulled it till it broke, and carried it away with him. They 
rode off at the gallop ; and, the shepherd giving the alarm, the 
blood-hound was turned loose, and the people in the neigh- 
bourhood alarmed. The marauders, however, escaped, not- 
withstanding a sharp pursuit. This circumstance serves to 
show how very long the license of the Borderers continued in 
some degree to manifest itself. 



NOTES 



ON 



GANTO VI. 



She wrought not by forbidden spell. — St. V. 179. 
Popular belief, though contrary to the doctrines of the 
church, made a favourable distinction betwixt magicians, and 
necromancers, or wizards ; the former were supposed to com- 
mand the evil spirits, and the latter to serve, or at least to be 
in league and compact with, those enemies of mankind. The 
arts of subjecting the daemons were manifold ; sometimes the 
fiends were actually swindled by the magicians, as in the case 
of the bargain betwixt one of their number and the poet Vir- 
gil. The classical reader will doubtless be curious to peruse 
this anecdote. 



318 



" Virgilius was at scole at Tolenton, where he stodyed dy- 
lygently, for he was of great understandynge. Upon a tyme, 
the scoiers had lycense to go to play and sporte them in the 
fyldes, after the usance of the holde tyme. And there was 
also Virgilius therbye, also walkynge among the hylles alle 
about. It fortuned he spyed a great hole in the syde of a 
great hyll, wherein he went so depe, that he culd not see no 
more lyght ; and than he went a lytell farther therin, and 
than he saw some lyght agayne, and than he went fourth 
streyghte, and within a lytyll wyle after he harde a voyce that 
called, " Virgilius ! Virgilius P and looked aboute, and he 
colde nat see no body. Than sayd he (i. e. the voice), " Virgi- 
lius, see ye not the lyttyll bourde lyinge bysyde you there 
markd with that word ?" Than answered Virgilius, " I see that 
borde well anough." The voyce said, " Doo awaye that 
borde, and lette me out there atte." Than answered Virgi- 
lius to the voyce that was under the lytell borde, and sayd, 
" Who art thou that callest me so V 7 Than answered the de- 
vyll, " I am a devyll conjured oat of the body of a certeyne 
man, and banysshed here tyll the day of judgemend, without 
that I be delyvered by the handes of men. Thus, Virgilius, I 
pray the, delyvere me out of this payn, and I shall shewe unto 
the many bokes of negromancye, and how thou shalt come by 
it lyghtly, and know the practise therein, that no man in the 
scyence of negromancye shall passe the. And moreover, I 
shall shewe and enforme the so, that thou shalt have alle thy 
desyre, whereby mythinke it is a great gyfte for so lytyll a do- 



319 



ynge. For ye may also thus all your power frendys helpe, and 

make ryche your enemy es." Thorough that great promyse 

was Virgilius tempted ; he badde the fynd show the bokes to 
him, that he might have and occupy them at his wyll, and so 
the fynde shewed hym. And than Virgilius pulled open a 
bourde, and there was a lytell hole, and therat wrang the de- 
vyll out lyke a yeel, and cam and stode before Virgilius lyke a 
bygge man ; wherof Virgilius was astonied and marveyled great- 
ly thereof, that so great a man myght come out at so lytell a 
hole. Than sayd Virgilius, " Shulde ye well passe into the 
hole that ye cam out of?" — "Yea, I shall well," sayd the devyl. 
" I holde the best plegge that I have, that ye shall not do it." 
" Well," sayd the devyl 1, " thereto I consent." And than the 
devyll wrange himselfe into the lytell hole ageyne ; and as he 
was therein, Virgilius kyverd the hole ageyne with the bourde 
close, and so was the devyll begyled, and myght nat there 
come out agen, but abydeth shytte styll therein. Than called 
the devyll dredefully to Virgilius, and said, " What have ye 
done, Virgilius?" Virgilius answered, " Abyde there styll to 
your day appoynted ;" and fro thens forth abydeth he there. — 
And so Virgilius became very connynge in the practyse of the 
black scyence." 

This story may remind the reader of the Arabian tale of the 
Fisherman and the imprisoned Genie; and it is more than 
probable, that many of the marvels narrated in the life of Vir- 
gil are of oriental extraction. Among such I am disposed to 
reckon the following whimsical account of the foundation of 



320 



Naples, containing a curious theory concerning the origin of 
the earthquakes with which it is afflicted. Virgil, who was a 
person of gallantry, had, it seems, carried off the daughter of 
a certain Soldan, and was anxious to secure his prize. 

" Than he thought in his mynde howe he myghte mareye 
hyr, and thought in his mynde to founde in the middes of the 
see a fayer towne, with great landes belongynge to it; and so 
he dyd by his cunnynge, and called it Napells. And the fan- 
dacyon of it was of egges, and in that towne of Napells he 
made a tower with iiii corners, and in the toppe he set an ap- 
pell upon an yron yarde, and no man culde pull awaye that 
apell without he brake it ; and thoroughe that yren set he a 
bolte, and in that bolte set he a egge. And he henge the apell 
by the stauke upon a cheyne, and so hangeth it styll. And 
when the egge styrreth, so shulde the towne of Napells quake; 
and whan the egge brake, than shulde the towne sinke. Whan 
he had made'an ende, he lette call it Napells." This appears 
to have been an article of current belief during the middle 
ages, as appears from the statutes of the order Du Saint Esprit, 
au droit desir, instituted in 1352. A chapter of the knights is 
appointed to be held annually at the Castle of the Enchant- 
ed Egg, near the grotto of Virgil. Montfatjcon, Vol. II. 
p. 329. 

A merlin sat upon her wrist. — -St. V. p. 179. 
A merlin, or sparrow-hawk, was usually carried by ladies of 
rank, as a falcon was, in time of peace, the constant attendant 



321 



of a knight, or baron. — See Latham on Falconry. Godscroft 
relates, that, when Mary of Lorraine was regent, she pressed 
the Earl of Angus to admit a royal garrison into his castle of 
Tantallon. To this he returned no direct answer ; but, as if 
apostrophising a goss-hawk, which sat on his wrist, and which 
he was feeding during the Queen's speech, he exclaimed, 
u The devil's in this greedy glade, she will never be full." — 
Hume's History of the House of Douglas, 1743, Vol.11, p. 131, 
Barclay complains of the common and indecent practice of 
bringing hawks and hounds into churches. 

And princely peacock's gilded train. — St. VI. p. 180. 
The peacock, it is well known, was considered, during the 
times of chivalry, not merely as an exquisite delicacy, but as a 
dish of peculiar solemnity. After being roasted, it was again 
decorated with its plumage, and a spunge, dipt in lighted spi- 
rits of wine, was placed in its bill. When it was introduced 
on days of grand festival, it was the signal for the adventurous 
knights to take upon them vows to do some deed of chivalry, 
" before the peacock and the ladies." 

And o'er the boar-head, garnished brave. — St. VI. p. 180. 
The boar's head was also an usual dish of feudal splendour. 
In Scotland it was sometimes surrounded with little banners, 
displaying the colours and achievements of the baron, afc whose 
board it was served. — Pinkerton's History, Vol. I. p. 432. 



322 



And cygnet from St Marys wave. — St. VI. p. 180. 
There are often flights of wild swans upon St Mary's Lake, 
at the head of the river Yarrow. 

Smote, with his gauntlet, stout Hunt hill. — St. VII. p. 182. 
The Rutherfords of Hunthill were an ancient race of Bor- 
der lairds, whose names occur in history, sometimes as defen- 
ding the frontier against the English, sometimes as disturbing 
the peace of the country. Dickon Draw-the-sword was son 
to the ancient warrior, called in tradition the Cock of Hunt- 
hill, 

But bit his glove, and shook his head. — St. VII. p. 182. 
To bite the thumb, or the glove, seems not to have been con- 
sidered, upon the Border, as a gesture of contempt, though so 
used by Shakespeare, but as a pledge of mortal revenge. It is 
yet remembered, that a young gentleman of Teviotdale, on the 
morning after a hard drinking-bout, observed, that he had bit- 
ten his glove. He instantly demanded of his companion, with 
whom he had quarrelled ? and learning that he had had words 
with one of the party, insisted on instant satisfaction, asserting, 
that though he remembered nothing of the dispute, yet he ne- 
ver would have bit his glove unless he had received some un- 
pardonable insult. He fell in the duel, which was fought near 
Selkirk, in 1721. 



323 



y — — Arthur Fire-the-Braes.—S. VIII. p. 183. 
The person, bearing this redoubtable nomme de guerre, was 
an Elliot, and resided at Thorleshope, in Liddesdale. He oc- 
curs in the list of Border riders, in 1597. 

Since old Buckleuch the name did gain, 
When in the cleuch the buck was ta'en.—St. VIII. p. 134. 
A tradition, preserved by Scott of Satchells, who published, 
in 1688, A true History of the Right Honourable Name of 
Scott, gives the following romantic origin of that name. Two 
brethren, natives of Galloway, having been banished from 
that country for a riot, or insurrection, came to Rankel- 
burn, in Ettricke Forest, where the keeper, whose name was 
Brydone, received them joyfully, on account of their skill in 
winding the horn, and in the other mysteries of the chace. — 
Kenneth Mac-Alpin, then king of Scotland, came soon after 
to hunt in the royal forest, and pursued a buck from Ettricke- 
heuch to the glen now called Buckleuch, about two miles 
above the junction of Rankelburn with the river Ettricke. — 
Here the stag stood at bay ; and the king and his attendants, 
who followed on horseback, were thrown out by the steepness 
of the hill and the morass. John, one of the brethren from 
Galloway, had followed the chace on foot ; and now coming 
in, seized the buck by the horns, and, being a man of great 
strength and activity, threw him on his back, and run with his 
burden about a mile up the steep hill, to a place called Cracra» 



324 

Cross, where Kenneth had halted, and laid the buck at the so- 
vereign's feet.* 



The deer being curee'd in that place, 

At his Majesty's demand, 
Then John of Galloway ran apace, 

And fetched water to his hand. 
The King did wash into a dish, 

And Galloway John he wot; 
He said, " Thy name now after this 

Shall ever be called John Scott. 



" The forest, and the deer therein, 

We commit to thy hand ; 
For thou shalt sure the ranger be, 

If thou obey command : 
And for the Buck thou stoutly brought 

To us up that steep heuch, 
Thy designation ever shall 

Be John Scott in Bucksleuch." 



* Froissart relates, that a knight of the household of the Compte 
de Foix exhibited a similar feat of strength. The hall-fire had 
waxed low, and wood was wanted to mend it. This knight went 
down to the court-yard, where stood an ass laden with faggots, 
seized on the animal and his burden, and, carrying him up to the 
hall on his shoulders, tumbled him into the chimney with his heels 
uppermost ; a humane pleasantry, much applauded by the Count 
and all the spectators. 



325 

In Scotland no Buckcleuch was then, 
Before the buck in the cleuch was slain ; 
Night's-men * at first they did appear, 
Because moon and stars to their arras tbey bear. 
Their crest, supporters, and hunting-horn, 
Shews their beginning from hunting came ; 
Their name, and stile, the book doth say, 
John gained them both into one day. 

Watt's Bellanden. 



The Buccleuch arms have been altered, and now allude less 
pointedly to this hunting, whether real or fabulous. The fami- 
ly now bear Or upon a bend azure, a mullet betwixt two cre- 
scents of the field ; in addition to which, they formerly bore in 
the field a hunting horn. The supporters, now two ladies, 
were formerly a hound and buck, or, according to the old 
terms, a hart of leash and a hart of greece. The family of 
Scott of Howpasley and Thirlestaine long retained the bugle- 
horn : they also carried a bent bow and arrow in the sinister 
cantle, perhaps as a difference. It is said the motto was,-P. 
Best riding by moonlight, in allusion to the crescents on the 



* '« Minions of the moon," as Falstaff would have said. The 
vocation pursued by our ancient Borderers may be justified on the 
authority of the most polished of the ancient nations : " For the 
Grecians in old time, and such barbarians as in the continent lived 
neere unto the sea, or else inhabited the islands, after once they 
began to crosse over one to another in ships, became theeves, and 
went abroad under the conduct of their more puissant men, both to 
enrich themselves, and to fetch in maintenance for the weak : and 
falling upon towns unfortified, or scatteringly inhabited, rifled 
them, and made this the best means of their living; being a aaat* 



326 

shield, and perhaps to the habits of those who bore it. The 
motto now given is Amo, applying to the female supporters. 

old Albert Grarnie, 

The Minstrel of that ancient name. — St. X. p. 185. 
" John Grahame, second son of Malice., Earl of Monteitli, 
commonly surnamed John with the Bright Sword, upon some 
displeasure risen against him at court, retired, with many of 
his clan and kindred, into the English Borders, in the reign of 
King Henry the Fourth, where they seated themselves ; and 
many of their posterity have continued there ever since. Mr 
Sandford, speaking of them, says (which indeed was applicable 
to most of the Borderers on both sides), " They were all stark 
moss-troopers, and arrant thieves : Both to England and Scot- 
land outlawed; yet sometimes connived at, because they gave 
intelligence forth of Scotland, and would raise 400 horse at any 



ter at that time no where in disgrace, but rather carrying with it 
something of glory. This is manifest by some that dwell upon the 
continent, amongst whom, so it be performed nobly, it is still es- 
teemed as an ornament. The same is also proved by some of the 
ancient poets, who introduce men questioning of such as sail by, on 
all coasts alike, whether they be theeves or not; as a thing ney- 
ther scorned by such as were asked, nor upbraided by those that 
were desirous to know. They also robbed one another within the. 
main land : and much of Greece useth that old custome, as the Lo- 
crians, the Acarnanians, and those of the continent in that quarter 
unto this day. Moreover, the fashion of wearing iron remaineth 
yet with the people of that continent, from their old trade of thee» 
ving."— -Hobbes' Thucydides, p. 4. Lond. 1629. 



time upon a raid of the English into Scotland. A saying is re- 
corded of a mother to her son (which is now become proverbial) 
Ride, Rowley, hough's ? the pot : that is, the last piece of beef 
was in the pot, and therefore it was high time for him to go and 
fetch more.'* — Introduction to the History of Cumberland. 

The residence of the Graemes being chiefly in the Debaceable 
Land, so called because it was claimed by both kingdoms, their 
depredations extended both to England and Scotland, with im- 
punity ; for as both wardens accounted them the proper sub- 
jects of their own prince, neither inclined to demand reparation 
for their excesses from the opposite officers, which would have 
been an acknowledgement of his jurisdiction over them. — See a 
long correspondence on this subject betwixt Lord Dacre and 
the English Privy Council, in Introduction to History of Cum- 
berland. The Debateable Land was finally divided betwixt 
England and Scotland, by commissioners appointed by both 
nations. 

The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall. — St. XI. p. 186. 
This burden is adopted, with some alteration, from an old 
Scottish song, beginning thus : 

She leaned her back against a thorn, 
The sun shines fair on Carlisle wa' ; 

And there she has her young babe born, 
And the lyon shall be lord of a'. 



3^8 



Who has not heard of Surrey's fame ? — St XIII. p. 18S. 

The gallant and unfortunate Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, 
was unquestionably the most accomplished cavalier of his time ; 
and his sonnets display beauties which would do Jionour to a 
more polished age. He was beheaded on Tower-hill in 1546 ; 
a victim to the mean jealousy of Henry VIII., who could not 
bear so briiliant a character near his throne. 

The song of the supposed bard is founded on an incident 
said to have happened to the Earl in his travels. Cornelius 
Agrippa, the celebrated alchemist, showed him, in a looking- 
glass, the lovely Geraldine, to whose service he had devoted 
his pen and his sword. The vision represented her as indis- 
posed, and reclined upon a couch, reading her lover's verses by 
the light of a waxen taper. 

The storm-swept Or cades; 

Where erst St Clairs held princely sway, 
O'er isle and islet, strait and bay. — St. XXI. p. 193. 
The St Clairs are of Norman extraction, being descended 
from William de St Clair, second son of Walderne Compte de 
St Clair, and Margaret, daughter to Richard Duke of Nor- 
mandy. He was called, for his fair deportment, the Seemly 
St Clair, and settling in Scotland during the reign of Malcolm 
Ceanmore, obtained large grants of land in Mid-Lothian.— 
These domains were encreased by the liberality of succeeding 
monarchs to the descendants of the family, and comprehend- 
ed the baronies of Rosline, Pentland, Cowsland, Cardaine, and 



i.29 



several others. It Is said a large addition was obtained from 
Robert Bruce, on the following occasion. The king, in follow- 
ing the chace upon Pentland hills, had often started a " white 
faunch deer," which had always escaped from his hounds; 
and lie asked the nobles, who were assembled around him, 
whether any of them had dogs, which they thought might be 
more successful. No courtier would affirm that his hounds 
were fleeter than those of the king, until Sir William St Clair 
of Rosline unceremoniously said, he would wager his head that 
his two favourite dogs, " Help and Hold," would kill the deer 
before she could cross the March-burn. The king instantly 
caught at his unwary offer, and betted the forest of Pentland- 
raoor against the life of Sir William St Clair. All the hounds 
were tied up, except a few ratches, or slow-hounds, to put up 
the deer; while Sir William St Clair, posting himself in the 
best situation for slipping his dogs, prayed devoutly to Christ, 
the blessed Virgin, and St Katherine. The deer was shortly 
after roused, and the hounds slipped ; Sir William following 
on a gallant steed, to cheer his dogs. The hind, however, 
reached the middle of the brook, upon which the hunter 
threw himself from his horse in despair. At this critical mo* 
ment, however, Hold stopped her in the brook; and Help, co- 
ming up, turned her back, and killed her on Sir William's side. 
The king descended from the hill, embraced Sir William, and 
bestowed on him the lands of Kirkton, Logan-house, Earncraig, 
&c. in free forestrie. Sir William, in acknowledgment of 
St Katherine's intercession, built the chapel of St Katherine 



330 



in the Hopes, the churchyard of which is still to be seen. The 
hill, from which Robert Bruce beheld this memorable chace, 
is still called the King's Hill, and the place where Sir William 
hunted is called the Knight's Field.* — MS. History of the Fa- 
mily of St Clair, by Richard Augustin Hay, Canon of St 
Genevieve. 

This adventurous huntsman married Elizabeth, daughter of 
Malice Spar, Earl of Orkney and Stratherne, in whose right 
their son Henry was, in 1379, created Earl of Orkney, by Ha- 
co, king of -Norway. His title was recognised by the kings of 
Scotland, and remained with his successors until it was annex- 
ed to the crown, in 1471, by act of parliament. In exchange 
for this earldom, the castle and domains of Ravenscraig, or 
Ravensheuch, were conferred on William Saintclair, Earl of 
Caithness. 



* The tomb of Sir William St Clair, on which he appears sculp- 
tured in armour, with a greyhound at his feet, is still to be seen in 
Roslin chapel. The person, who shows it, always tells the story of 
his hunting-match, with some addition to Mr Hay's account; as 
that the knight of Rosline's fright made him poetical, and that, in 
the last emergency, he shouted, 

Help, haud, an' ye may, 

Or Roslin will lose his head this day. 

If this couplet does him no great honour as a poet, the conclusion 
of the story does him still less credit. He set his foot on the dog, 
says the narrator, and killed him on the spot, saying, he would ne- 
ver again put his neck in such a risque. As Mr Hay does not men- 
tion this circumstance, I hope it is only founded on the couehanfc 
posture of the hound on the monument. 



331 



Still nods their palace to its fall, 

Thy pride and sorrow, fair Kirkwall. — St. XXI. p. 193. 

The castle of Kirkwall was built by the St Clairs, while earls 
of Orkney. It was dismantled by the Earl of Caithness about 
1615, having been garrisoned against the government by Robert 
Stewart, natural son to the Earl of Orkney. 

Its ruins afforded a sad subject of contemplation to John, 
Master of St Clair, who, flying from his native country, on ac- 
count of his share in the insurrection 1715, made some stay at 
Kirkwall. 

" I had occasion to entertain myself at Kirkwall with the 
melancholie prospect of the ruins of an old castle, the seat of 
the old Earls of Orkney, my ancestors ; and of a more melan- 
choly reflection, of so great and noble an estate as the Orkney 
and Shetland isles being taken from one of them by James the 
Third for faultrie, after his brother Alexander, Duke of Alba- 
ny, had married a daughter of my family, and for protecting 
and defending the said Alexander against the king, who wished 
to kill him, as he had done his youngest brother, the Earl of 
Mar ; and for which, after the forfaultrie, he gratefully divor- 
ced my forfaulted ancestor's sister; though I cannot persuade 
myself that he had any misalliance to plead against a famiiie in 
whose veins the blood of Robert Bruce run as fresh as in his 
own ; for their title to the crowne was by a daughter of David 
Bruce, son to Robert ; and our alliance was by marrying a 
grandchild of the same Robert Bruce, and daughter to the sis- 



33% 



ter of the same David, out of the familie of Douglass, which at 
that time did not much sullie the blood, more than my ances- 
tor's having not long before had the honour of marrying a 
daughter of the king of Denmark's, who was named Florentine, 
and has left in the town of Kirkwall a noble monument of the 
grandeur of the times, the finest church ever I saw entire in 
Scotland. I then had no small reason to think, in that unhap- 
py state, on the many not inconsiderable services rendered since 
to the royal familie, for these many years by-gone, on all occa- 
sions, when they stood most in need of friends, which they have 
thought themselves very often obliged to acknowledge by let- 
ters yet extant, and in a stile more like friends than souve- 
raigns; our attachment to them, without anie other thanks, 
having brought upon us considerable losses, and, among others, 
that of our all in Cromwell's time; and left in that condition, 
without the least relief except what we found in our own vir- 
tue. My father was the only man of the Scots nation who had 
courage enough to protest in parliament against King William's 
title to the throne, which was lost, God knows how: and this 
at a time when the losses in the cause of the royall familie, and 
their usual gratitude, had scarce left him bread to maintain a 
numerous familie of eleven children, who had soon after sprung 
up on him, in spite of all which, he had honourably persisted 
in his principle. I say, these things considered, and after being 
treated as I was, and in that unluckie state, when objects ap- 
pear to men in their true light, as at the hour of death, could I 



533 



be blamed for makeing some bitter reflections to myself, and 
laughing at the extravagance and unaccountable humour of 
men, and the singularitie of my own case (an exile for the cause 
of the Stuart family), when I ought to have known, that the 
greatest crime I, or my family, could have committed, was per- 
severing, to my own destruction, in serving the royal family 
faithfully, though obstinately, after so great a share of depres- 
sion, and after they had been pleased to doom me and my fa- 
milie to starve." — MS. Memoirs of John, Master of St Clair. 

Kings of the main their leaders brave. 

Their barks the dragons of the wave. — St. XXII. p. 194. 
The chiefs of the Vikingr, or Scandinavian pirates, assumed 
the title of Saekonungr, or Sea-kings. Ships, in the inflated 
language of the Scalds, are often termed the serpents of the 
ocean. 

Of that Sea-Snake, tremendous curled, 

Whose monstrous circle girds the world. — St. XXII. p. 194. 
The jormungandr, or Snake of the Ocean, whose folds sur- 
round the earth, is one of the wildest fictions of the Edda. Ic 
was very nearly caught by the god Thor, who went to fish for 
it with a hook baited with a bull's head. In the battle betwixt 
the evil daemons and the divinities of Odin, which is to pre- 
cede the Ragnarockr, or Twilight of the Gods, this Snake is t& 
act a conspicuous part. 



oo4> 



Of those dread Maids, whose hideous yell 
Maddens the battle's blood]/ swell. — St. XXII. p. 195, 
These were the Vulkyriur, or Selectors of the Slain, dis- 
patched by Odin from Valhalla, to choose those who were to 
die, and to distribute the contest. They are well known to the 
English reader, as Gray's Fatal Sisters. 

Ransacked the graves of warriors old, 
Their faulchions wrenched from corpses 1 hold. 

St. XXII. p. 195. 
The northern warriors were usually entombed with their 
arms, and their other treasures. Thus, Angantyr, before com- 
mencing the duel in which he was slain, stipulated, that if he 
fell, his sword Tyrfing should be buried with him. His daugh- 
ter, Hervor, afterwards took it from his tomb. The dialogue 
which past betwixt her and Angantyr's spirit on this occasion 
has been often translated. The whole history may be found in 
the Hervarar-Saga. Indeed the ghosts of the northern warriors 
were not wont tamely to suffer their tombs to be plundered ; 
and hence the mortal heroes had an additional temptation to 
attempt such adventures ; for they held nothing more worthy 
of their valour than to encounter supernatural beings. — Bar- 
tholinus Be causis contempts a Danis mortis, Lib. I. cap. 2, 
9, 10, IS. 



335 



■Rosabelle.— St. XXIII. p. 195. 



This was a family name in the house of St Clair. Henry St 
Clair, the second of the line, married Rosabelle, fourth daugh- 
ter of the Earl of Stratherne. 

Castle Ravensheuch.— St. XXIII. p. 196. 

A large and strong castle, now ruinous, situated betwixt 
Kirkaldy and Dysart, on a steep crag, washed by the Firth of 
Forth. It was conferred on Sir William St Clair, as a slight 
compensation for the earldom of Orkney, by a charter of 
King James IIL dated in 1471, and is now the property of Sir 
James St Clair Erskine, (now Earl of Rosslvn,) representative 
of the family. It was long a principal residence of the Barons 
of Roslin. 

Seemed all on fire that chapel proud, 

Where Roslin s chiefs uncoffined lie; 
Each Baron, for a sable shroud, 

Sheathed in his iron panoply. — St. XXIII.. p. 19F. 
The beautiful chapel of Roslin is still in tolerable preserva- 
tion. It was founded in 1446 by William St Clair, Prince of 
Orkney, Duke of Oldenbourgh, Earl of Cathness and Strath- 
erne, Lord Saint Clair, Lord Niddesdale, Lord Admiral of the 
Scottish seas, Lord Chief- Justice of Scotland, Lord Warden 
of the three Marches, Baron of Roslin, Pentland, Pentland- 
moor, &c, Knight of the Cockle and of the Garter, (as is af- 
firmed,) High Chancellor, Chamberlain, and Lieutenant of Scot- 
land. This lofty person, whose titles, says Godscroft, might 



356 

wear)* a Spaniard, built the castle of Roslin, where he resided 
in princely splendour, and founded the chapel, which is in the 
most rich and florid stile of Gothic architecture. Among the 
profuse carving on the pillars and buttresses, the rose is fre- 
quently introduced, in allusion to the name, with which, how- 
ever, the flower has no connection ; the etymology being Ross- 
linnhe, the promontory of the linn, or water-fall. The chapel 
is said to appear on fire previous to the death of any of his de- 
scendants. This superstition, noticed by Slezer in his Thea- 
trum Scotia, and alluded to in the text, is probably of Norwe- 
gian derivation, and may have been imported by the Earls of 
Orkney into their Lothian domains. The tomb-fires of the 
north are mentioned in most of the Sagas. 

The Barons of Roslin were buried in a vault beneath the 
chapel floor. The manner of their interment is thus described 
by Father Hay, in the MS. history already quoted. 

" Sir William Sinclair, the father, was a leud man. He 
kept a miller's daughter, with whom, it is alledged, he went to 
Ireland ; yet I think the cause of his retreat was rather occa- 
sioned by the Presbyterians, who vexed him sadly, because of 
his religion being Roman Catholic. His son, Sir William, died 
during the troubles, and was interred in the chapel of Roslin 
the very same day that the battle of Dunbar was fought. 
When my goodfather was buried, his (i. e. Sir William's) 
corpse seemed to be entire at the opening of the cave ; but 
when they came to touch his body, it fell into dust. He was 
laying in his armour, with a red velvet cap on his head, on a 
flat stone ; nothing was spoiled except a piece of the white 

7 



337 



furring, that went round the cap, and answered to the hinder 
part of the head. All his predecessors were buried after the 
same manner, in their armour : late Rosline, my good-father, 
was the first that was buried in a coffin, against the sentiments 
of King James the Seventh, who was then in Scotland, and se- 
veral other persons well versed in antiquity, to whom my mo- 
ther would not hearken, thinking it beggarly to be buried after 
that manner. The great expences she was at in burying her 
husband, occasioned the sumptuary acts which were made in 
the following parliaments." 

" Gylbin, come /"—St. XXVII. p. 201. 



See the story of Gilpin Horner, pp. 261, 262. 

For he was speechless, ghastly, wan, 

Like him, of whom the story ran, 

Who spoke the spectre-hound in Man. 

St. XXVII. p. 201. 
The ancient castle of Peel-town, in the Isle of Man, is 
surrounded by four churches, now ruinous. Through one of 
these chapels there was formerly a passage from the guard- 
room of the garrison. This was closed, it is said, upon the 
following occasion : " They say, that art apparition, called, in 
the Mankish language, the Mauthe Doog, in the shape of 
a large black spaniel, with curled shaggy hair, was used to 
haunt Peel-castle ; and has been frequently seen in every 
room, but particularly in the guard-chamber, where, as soon 



U> 



338 



as candles were lighted, it came and lay down before the fire, 
in presence of all the soldiers, who, at length, by being so 
much accustomed to the sight of it, lost great part of the 
terror they were seized with at its first appearance. They still, 
however, retained a certain awe, as believing it was an evil 
spirit, which. only waited permission to do them hurt; and, 
for that reason, forebore swearing, and all prophane discourse, 
while in its company. But though they endured the shock of 
such a guest when all together in a body, none cared to be left 
alone with it. It being the custom, therefore, for one of the 
soldiers to lock the gates of the castle at a certain hour, and 
carry the keys to the captain, to whose apartment, as I said 
before, the way led through the church, they agreed among 
themselves, that whoever was to succeed the ensuing night his 
fellow in this errand, should accompany him that went first, 
and by this means no man would be exposed singly to the 
danger : for I forgot to mention, that the Mautke Doog was 
always seen to come out from that passage at the close of 
day, and return to it again as soon as the morning dawned ; 
which made them look on this place as its peculiar residence. 
" One night, a fellow being drunk, and by the strength of 
his liquor rendered more daring than ordinarily, laughed at 
the simplicity of his companions ; and though it was not his 
turn to go with the keys, would needs take that office upon 
him, to testify his courage. All the soldiers endeavoured to 
dissuade him ; but the more they said, the more resolute he 
seemed, and swore that he desired nothing more than that the 



339 

Mauthe Doog would follow him, as it had done the others ; 
for he would try if it were dog or devil. After having talked 
in a very reprobate manner for some time, he snatched up the 
keys, and went out of the guard-room : in some time after his 
departure, a great noise was heard, but nobody had the bold- 
ness to see what occasioned it, till, the adventurer returning, 
they demanded the knowledge of him ; but as loud and noisy 
as he had been at leaving them, he was now become sober 
and silent enough ; for he was never heard to speak more r 
and though all the time he lived, which was three days, he 
was entreated by all who came near him, either to speak, or, 
if he could not do that, to make some signs, by which they 
might understand what had happened to him; yet nothing 
intelligible could be got from him, only that, by the distortion 
of his limbs and features, it might be guessed that he died in 
agonies more than is common in a natural death. 

" The Mauthe Doog was, however, never after seen in the* 
castle, nor would any one attempt to go through that pas- 
sage ; for which reason it was closed up, and another way 
made. This accident happened about threescore years since : 
and I heard it attested by several, but especially by an old 
soldier, who assured me he had seen it oftener than he had 
then hairs on his head." — Waldron's Description of the Isle 
of Man, p. 107. 



340 



And he a solemn sacred plight 
Did to St Bryde of Douglas make. 

St. XXVIII. p. 202. 
This was a favourite saint of the house of Douglas, and of 
the Earl of Angus in particular ; as we learn from the follow- 
ing passage : The Queen-regent ad proposed to raise a rival 
noble to the ducal dignity ; and discoursing of her purpose 
with Angus, he answered, " Why not, madam ? we are happy 
that have such a princess, that can know and will acknow- 
ledge men's service, and is willing to recompence it : but, by 
the might of God (this was his oath when he was serious and 
in anger ; at other times, it was by St Bride of Douglas), if he 
be a Duke, I will be a Drake !" — So she desisted from prose- 
cuting of that purpose. — Godscroft, Vol. II. p, 131. 



THE END, 



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